I saw Ajoba
Not keeping well,
Lying in bed
How long I can’t tell.
His final resting place was his home
In supine position that became his own
His confidence sapping
With signs of the inevitable end approaching
Like a rumbling earthquake,
His legs shaking
Nature was beckoning him
Back into her tender fold.
Then, on 29th March morn
He stopped talking to one and all
And refused to hear him anyone call
No more use of his arms or legs,
He stopped moving them altogether
His eyes fixed in a vacant stare
He had moved on to a world far and unknown.
For days I wondered where he had gone
What could he be doing there for long
Had he gone to meet his Maker
Who had kept him waiting for some reason?
Or was it that in the distant world,
He was engrossed
In listening to BBC news on radio?
Or lost in solving a crossword puzzle?
Or is he taking time to read The Economist?
Or talking to R. M. Naik of Rahuri on phone?
Or drafting a speech
For the Pusa Institute a hundred year old?
Or is he taking his morning tea
Or gone for a walk in a slow and unsteady stride?
Or is he re-united after six years with Aaji
And has decided to stay forever back?
None of these, I am told.
Having reached the fullness of life
He had said ‘Good Bye’ to everyone
And returned to Nature –
The mother of all creation.
Whence he came,
Thence he went.