Clung to the black iron railings were a set of thickly layered wrinkles, old ragged pair of hands. Behind it was a dull set of eyes, frail looking head of hair, and a stature screaming age.
Wondering how a gate mounted to bar unapproved entry should be manned by such a tired looking figure, I looked on as my vehicle riding by came to a pause in traffic. I looked on as though it was the first I had seen in all my years, but thinking back I remembered there was nothing alien at all about this. Has it not been the culture since ages past, to have a ‘baba’ securing gates? I wondered how that even started. What was the rationale behind such phenomenon? How much could a man his age do to ward off unsolicited ‘forceful’ strangers when the need arose? Many answers began to pop… Economy, decisions, systems, families, culture… All sorts of responses presented themselves in my thoughts and I examined each. The sound of the gate screeching open flung me back to the scene.
I watched on as with pain and struggle between his rheumatised joints, he bent over and unlocked the gate as a 20-something drove in. I wonder what at that moment probably flashed across his mind. His 20-something days? His colourful dreams that had been washed down the drains of time, and how fast the time flowed? I soon began to wonder what kind of thoughts live in their minds; men and women of that age. Gradually my own years so far sped fast before me… I quickly projected into the coming phases and wondered what was being created. Quickly catching my breath from that race into the future, I thought… “how did you suddenly make this about you”? It was just the old man and the gate a minute ago. Sometimes a quick reflection is inspired by a brief encounter or experience. I try to make it count. This moment was two weeks ago, but it left an impression I haven’t finished processing. Life is a stream of ripples.