Wrinkled

Hazy and misty mornings in December, wandering in the streets, sauntering in the alley, His motions were confined to dawdling and maundering on the craggy thoroughfares.

It was only today that he walked around the streets empty handed, unlike any other day when he carried a bag full of paraphernalia to work in the fields.

It was only today that he felt decrepit and his hand shivered, unlike any other day when it was cold but still rejoiced it as an autumn evening.

It was only today he wanted a refund of his youth, unlike any other day when he would work feeling the zestiest elder.

The gray-haired, half balded man was all alone, unloved, uncherished and unknown.

Working for a forever lifetime.

From dusk to dawn, youth to dotage, was now wrinkled with eyes that now felt tedious.

And now this jaded old man was considered to go through senile dementia.

Throughout his existence, his world revolved around intensive labour for his people . His family, his spouse, his children.

He knew his looks were not special. His body showed wear and tear. The things he used to do with ease, now caused aches and pains.

He knew he couldn’t earn like any other millionaire but had served his family enough. Filled their stomachs twice a day, sometimes he himself going to the bed hungry.

He knew that now the very purpose of his life was accomplished.

The wrinkles told him this!

By: Kanan Parmar

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