Memoirs of the Lonely

The old man sat on the doorstep of the house. It was early in the morning. Like many other people his age, he too didn’t sleep well and always found himself up before the sun. His body was not what it used to be, his hands shaking, as he swatted away a random bug. There was no one to bring him a hot cup of tea on a chilly morning like this anymore. Without a wife or children, he was all alone in the little house. He used to be married, a long time ago. But then she tired of him and found herself a job someplace far away. They didn’t have kids - they never really got around to it. One day, when she was long gone, he found himself raising a young boy, a kid of a distant relative, himself unwanted by his family. “Why don’t you come with me, kollo (little boy)?”, he had asked. The kid happily went with him and spent many long years growing up in his care. The kid didn’t have much of an interest in education and preferred to help his uncle with his work or to do odd jobs around the vi...