my father...

He had survived the hails and the storms of the most unholy kinds!
He survived like a big banyan tree spreading his branches out...
As if he had that only job assigned by the God!
He stood steadfast on his grounds...
Facing the cruelest part of history books- the violence...the bloodshed...
He bled...
He bled profusely sometimes...
But he probably had that memory of a banyan tree...
Which he had as company in a different geographic location...
So he took all the challenges...
And stood still...
Holding on to his grounds;

A man with jewish origin gave him joy
And filled him with wonder...
He ran after the man's works...
Just ran...
Giving the run his greatest physical energy...
Like a negative atom running towards the positive one...
Laws of attraction took him there!
Simply!


Time glided by...
As usual;

He is still running his own way...
May be stumbling a bit...
With cough and cold...and the sugary blood...
Still he's on the run!

The jew died long ago...
But he left his books! luckily!