We sat down facing the west
As the sun lazily crawled behind the green hills
Under the older than time mango tree
We sat on rickety three legged stools.
His face engulfed in mystery
Stroking his grey mustache
He gazed at me…
He said no word
He wore no smile
But I waited…
He gazed at me…
His eyes pierced through me
As I sat down on my rickety three legged stool
Then…
He looked up, at the sky and smiled
Stroking his grey mustache
He gazed at me again
He stood up and plucked one ripe mango
He gave it to me
Then…
He sat down on his rickety three legged stool
He looked at the dimming sun in the west
He looked up at the sky
He gazed at me…
And smiled.
“Eat that mango my son, it’s as ripe as you are”
He said.
He gazed at me again
And smiled
He stood up and slowly walked away
As the sun sunk behind the green hills.
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