The Flash Or The Flame


My grandfather was never a particularly flashy man.
He lived a decidedly simple existence. He woke up every morning at five AM, said his morning prayers, went for a walk with his neighbourhood friends, and always managed to get home half an hour before breakfast even though no one told him what time it was expected to be served. Upon inquiry, he said, “When you’ve lived as l have, you know these things.” He would give us his warm, enigmatic smile which was, and still is, an object of fascination for me. I distinctly remember standing in front of my bathroom mirror trying to emulate it with the same warmth, love and mystery it radiated but to no avail. Eventually, I resigned myself to believing that it’s only after I reached his age, would I be able to do it. Whether it was realization of a fact or simply childish…

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