THERE are clusters of old men at the various coffee shops, whiling away their days; those who are fortunate to be able to move around on their own. Many of their compatriots – long-time friends – are confined to wheelchairs or bedridden, or have long departed.
The conversations of these seniors, if they actually engage themselves, are superficial, repetitive and usually morbid; most of the time, they are going through their routines, poring over newspapers, nursing their drinks or staring off into space. It is clear that their lives are spent, their experiences and achievements of no interest to anyone, sidelined from the activities of their younger family members. Left to fade away…
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