Met a man whom my Dad's befriended in our neighbourhood, who works as a head-master at a school in Soweto. He chose to share, immediately , perhaps spontaneously, provocative and interesting facets of his life, observations pertaining to drug-ab/use locally.
We discovered people I've known, some dead, as his former students.
He has sadness etched deep from his years, although lean-and-mean, for his age, in stature and dress.
I've always wondered about older people,the elderly that is, they always seem to have this faraway look. Coupled with the adhab -etiquette and wisdom?- one presumes as a function of experience, it's hard to determine if it is sadness. The young generally always seem to assume senility.
Ever so slowly, almost indiscernibly, I'm getting to know first-hand...rheumatically swollen first-hand that is :)