Monday, August 23, 2010

First Class Honors from the University of Life

It was a weekly routine for the Thursday Club- a cosy, simple, dinner, full of quiet conversations, for two men-the only members-one about ten years older than the other. I must repeat- Full of quiet conversations. And good ones at that. I will admit its not a club of the young. But there's no reason it shouldn't be. For men, not my age, they don't impose the orthodox beliefs of men of their times. Its funny how they're not old, ranting men, who try and share the gray of their hair, and the wrinkles of their skin, with blood, so young and reviving. I would say, they're the youth of yesterday, their thoughts staying forever young, changing with generations, always keeping a special interest in what the present is all about.

The Thursday Club- Its not about yesterday, its about today. Its not about religion, its about liberation. Its not about losing out on life as it used to be, its about what you still carry after its long gone. Its not just about learning life's greatest lessons, its about embibing them. Its about the latest movies, its about the best books. Its about the jewels of time that will never lose their shine.

Its a pleasure to listen to him, as he narrates stories that leave an impression of sorts. The stories have an ambiguity of exaggeration, the beauty of the wines and roses that still hold the same essence, the tales of love and devotion, as far as they can get. They touch you somewhere.

The other, much younger, respects, teases and simply makes up for the momentary grief in the joyful flashbacks, that still bring a tear, so satisfied at the thought of still being able to remember, to the eyes of not only the listener, but the narrator too. "After all he has First Class Honors from The University of Life." The sound of hushed chuckles fills the silence as dinner finally ends with simple dessert.

Its hard to not wonder what life has been for them. Wisdom flows as eloquently as their words, rarely unheard even by the ears and minds of moronic beings lost in time long withered and old, or time too disrespected for lack of values and meaning.

Goodnight The Thursday Club. Until we meet again.
I'm glad to be a Country member. :)


Scribblers Inc said...

prettily expressive!!I wish I could be a part of such haunts n I seriouly hope this aint fiction!

scribblers inc.

P.S.-thanks 4 trippin over!glad you like the place!! come again! :)

Blots Of Ink said...

Thank You! :)

And fortunately it isn't fiction! :)

I'm following your blog. You'll see a comment on all your new posts! :)