From My Diary
Age approximately around 80 to 85.
He had wear white Pathani. Brown, twisted, turban on his head, which I always try in his absence. Wrinkle and dense skin.
He came into a room as slow as he could and my soul looked at him so intensely. After 10 minutes, my paternal aunt, who is daughter-in-law of that man, gave me a cup of tea, and told me to give him.
Somewhere deep inside, I was happy, that she gave me this opportunity. I gave him a cup of tea. His peaceful, stress-less eyes looked at me without any facial expression.
He poured tea from cup to saucer, with his stumbling and shivering hand. He looked intensely at saucer which was in his left hand, and started drinking tea, sip by sip. His right hand, which was holding a cup, was shivering with the slow but continuous pace. He poured his saucer 3 times and sipped n times.
I noticed, he has completed with his tea. My physical body, stand up from the sofa, without wasting a second. I took a cup from him, and passed it to the kitchen. And glued, to my seat again, noticing and observing him motionlessly.
He took out a cigar from his upper-left pocket, with a light pink lighter. He lighted cigar, and enjoyed his first puff, with deep relaxation. Within a few minutes, the room was full of light smoke fog. Tough my sensitive nose, smelled it, my body, I think, each any every atom, was so relaxed and they have reached peak levels of peacefulness, by just seeing him.