
I had a small experience recently
which I had thought of sharing it with everybody. I met an old man Verendra (60)
at Singapore airport where I had to wait for 3 hours to catch my next flight to Brisbane. He was moving
thoughtlessly and he asked me gently whether I am an Indian. I said yes. So we started our conversation as we both had some time to catch our next flight.
He had started talking about some general things, experiences in abroad etc. He
has two kids, Elder one (working) in England and Younger one (working) in Auckland.
He was returning from Auckland after spending a holiday with his younger son. I
had a good conversation with him and I dint know how the time had passed. In
the end I asked him why dint he take his wife along with him to Auckland. He
said that his wife is with god now and she had left him 25 years back. He told
normally that she had suffered from Tuberculosis and she had died due to lack
of proper treatment. It was a love marriage. He endured that pain for 25 years. For one second tears had rolled out from my eyes but somehow I gained by composure. He raised both of his sons all alone by himself and now he travelling abroad to
meet his sons all alone. I learnt two things in my life after that
conversation.