Feels good to be back after more than 6 months. Haven't had much opportunity of wielding the camera either. But now that, I got around to processing some old pictures, thought of posting this picture of an old man I met during a short visit to Courtallam. He had a shop with a view of the waterfall. My friend and I stepped in for a few minutes and chatted with him while relishing the banana chips he offered us.
The interaction reminded me of a few lines from the beautiful adaptation by David L Griffith of Crabbit Old Woman originally penned down by Phyllis McCormack.
I'm a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young boy of sixteen, with wings on his feet,
Dreaming that soon now, a lover he'll meet.
A groom at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows, that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide, and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other, with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons, have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me, to see that I don't mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my wife is now dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing, young of their own,
And I think of the years, and the love that I've known.
I am now an old man, and nature is cruel,
It's jest to make old age, look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigour, depart,
There is now a stone, where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young man still dwells,
And now and again, my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living, life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people, open and see,
Not a cranky old man. Look closer, see, me!
I'm a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young boy of sixteen, with wings on his feet,
Dreaming that soon now, a lover he'll meet.
A groom at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows, that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide, and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other, with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons, have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me, to see that I don't mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my wife is now dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing, young of their own,
And I think of the years, and the love that I've known.
I am now an old man, and nature is cruel,
It's jest to make old age, look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigour, depart,
There is now a stone, where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young man still dwells,
And now and again, my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living, life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people, open and see,
Not a cranky old man. Look closer, see, me!
