Oldman Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

The old man of good reputes
A routine visitor in my household
He was illiterate but so cunning
His narration of hunting of wildlife
Beautiful stories of poaching I felt.

He was a man of vigor and vitality
His stature as an old gentleman
Got him wide respects in society
Still I feared him in my inner mind.

His stories of hunting the wild boar
And other wild animals
Were thought to be some over narration
A normal human being can't be believed.
But those were stories we entertained.

To every applause we gave him
A new story of hunting will he gave back
As if a sportsman about the sports festival
Or a soldier retired about the war experiences
He was always ready to part with the stories.

He was a proud old man of helping character
In needs of urgency his services were dedicated
In fact we all respects him in our minds
Not through his stories but through his services.

Such men of characters are missing today
In village life there is no time to hear
All are busy and schedules of journey heavy
Shrinking oneself in his own shells of life.

Innocence of village life was very beautiful
But in memories only since they have disappeared
The mothers, grandfathers, and uncles in society
Fast disappearing in such a speed of time
In fact I am in such a mood of sadness
Memories are such beautiful experiences of past.