Leave Taking-Sisil Rajendra

The only joy

Of his old age

He often said

Was his grandson

Their friendship


Eight decades

Three generations

They laughed, played, quarreled, and embraced

Watched television together

And while the rest had

Little to say to the old man

The little fellow was

A fountain of endless chatter.

When death rattled

The gate at five

One Sunday morning

Took the old man away

Other trumpeted their

Grief in loud sobs

And lachrymose blubber

He never shed a tear

Just waved one of his

Small inimitable goodbyes

To his grand father

And was sad the old man

Could not return his gesture


11 thoughts on “Leave Taking-Sisil Rajendra

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