A friend one day put me in a tight fix,
He asked how I remained happy in life
Because in the year nineteen ninety six
I lost, of twenty five years, my sweet wife.
He wondered why I work when I’m retired
(You see, he is exactly half my age).
He knows not old men’s hearts, too, can be fired.
I hope he works when he reaches my stage.
To work does not mean having stress or pain;
It shows God’s kindness that I can still work.
An idle life I would hold in disdain.
Why from doing work should I ever shirk?
I thank God he chose me to make his tool
And trained my heart in his heavenly school.
*Written in response to what a young Indian engineer, 35, in USA wrote to me while chatting--“You live pretty much independently, you work hard even while being retired, you toil day and night without a companion and yet you smile through it all. What resilience, Sir.”
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