Remembering The Old Codger Poem by Kewal Paigankar

Let us salute this man.
The old codger is gone
Alive no more;
Struck down by illness and old age
Until the shrivelled body creaked
And the mind became confused.
When the call came from beyond
He gladly welcomed it
Striding with a smile into the sunset.

He was shunned by society
Derided for his eccentricity
But we children loved him for what he was
A once great man reduced by circumstance
To a figure on the periphery.
He was a raconteur, teacher and philosopher
Who wore the cloak of joy, anger and pain
And wrapped himself in contradiction.

He fought in the trenches
And made the world a safe place.
He marched with the students, in Paris
To protest against the Vietnam war in ’68.
But latterly he became disillusioned
Watching the dissolution of the old world.
He felt betrayed and abandoned
By the country he served
And for whom he had shed blood.

Something of the prophet and visionary
Resided in him;
He held us spellbound with his loquacity
Mesmerising us with his silence.
He would look into your eyes
And dissect your soul,
Before allowing you to drink in the reservoir
Of his knowledge that was open to all.
He was an intellectual and a protean scholar
He was, after all, the old codger.

He made us laugh and cry
Sometimes simultaneously;
He opened up a whole new world
Unravelling its mystery.
So rest in peace, old friend
Enjoy the company of the gods
On Mount Olympus.
You were destined for a higher station
Beyond the reach of lesser mortals.