I abhorred the old man with his old spectacles.
Who looked at the contemporary life in his old ways.
Our views were always so different.
'' Why could he not be modern?
Why he can't accept different gender roles,
Why can't he be tolerant to more faiths?
Why can't he look beyond caste and class?
Why does he has to live in a box? ''
All our communication was done.
I listened to his views from distance.
I started opposing everything he said.
Not in arguments, but in my head.
Once by accident, we got stuck together.
There was no option, but to talk rather
There was friction at first,
Rejection was my default construct.
Only when I listened to him I reflected.
There were many things we both accepted.
His vision was different than mine,
Because it was true to his time.
He reflected what he was exposed to,
His knowledge, his experience, his interpretations.
I could call him wrong,
He could call him wrong.
But we both could listen,
We both could talk.
To reject him blindly,
Would be bigotry.
Now, I admire the old man,
Abhor his old spectacles.
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