The helping hand

The old man was at the station
waiting for the train just as me
the only difference, he could not see
neither the train nor me who would
always train my eyes on him
wondering how he judged the train
as it reached the station and got into
without much help except his stick
it was a daily challenge I could gather
as he would disembark and carry on
with only his stick to guide him alight
descend  fifty steps on the foot bridge
till he reached the road and went his way
I decided to help him rather than watch
I still remember his firm grip on my hand
Our destination being the same every time
him to his workplace and I to my college
Quite a few terms, we used to walk together
hand in hand, until my class time changed
How I sorely missed walking with him again…


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