...colours of life...

    I used to peep through his spectacles from behind when he read newspapers -  Just to know how those letters appeared to him. I remember I was in 6th std. those days. He used to teach me Hindi : to be frank that was not the only thing that I learned from him. I always wondered watching him love silence and calmness. At home only I was allowed to enter him room - books, glass framed photos and other valuable certificates kept everyone else away from his room. Many times I have over utilized that freedom which always ended up in a broken frame. But I never got angry on him in between my tears and cries - when he scolds for that .       I saw him for the first time when i was 10. Like any one else would, the first thing I noticed about him was his white khadi dress. Did I miss that gold plated old Parker ink pen? I always dreamed of writing with that. The so called “generation gap” never allowed me to become like him. But today I realize that the time spent with him did influence me