Father had grown old and would take support of the wall while walking. As a result the walls had discoloured, wherever he used to touch and his fingerprints got printed on the walls.

My wife detected this and would often complain about the dirty looking walls.
One day, he was having headache, so he massaged some oil onto his head. So while walking oil stains were formed on the walls.

My wife screamed at me seeing this. And I in turn shouted at my father and spoke to him rudely, advising him not to touch the walls while walking.

He looked hurt. I also felt ashamed of my behaviour , but did not say anything to him.

Father stopped holding the wall while walking. And fell down one day. He became bedridden and left us shortly. I felt guilt in my heart and could never forget his expressions and forgive myself of his demise shortly thereafter.

After sometime, we wanted to get our house painted. When the painters came, my son, who adored his grandfather, did not allow the painters to clean father’s fingerprints, and paint those areas.
The painters were very good and innovative. They assured him that they will not remove my father’s fingerprints/ handprints, rather would draw a beautiful circle around these marks and create a unique design.

This continued thereafter and those prints become part of our house. Every person visiting our home admired our unique design.

With time, I also grew old.

Now I needed the support of wall to walk. One day while walking,I remembered my words to my father, and tried to walk without support. My son saw this and immediately came to me and asked me to take support of the walls while walking, expressing concern that I would have fallen without support, I realised that my son was holding me.

My grand daughter immediately came forward and affectionately, asked me put my hand on her shoulder for support. I almost started crying silently. Had I done the same for my father, he would lived longer.

My grand daughter took me along and made me sit on the sofa.

Then she took out her drawing book to show me.

Her teacher had admired her drawing and given her excellent remarks.

The sketch was of my father’s handprint on the walls.

Her comment – “wish every child loves elders in same way”.

I came back to my room and started crying profusely, asking forgiveness from my father, who was no more.

We also grow old with time. Let’s take care of our elders and teach the same to our children.