The Qualities Of The Person I Know From My Grandfather

Sitting facing the television, drinking tea and lamenting; these are the qualities of old people, I know from my grandfather. What I remember about him is the reminiscences of him, the reason of why he coerces me to listen. Though my parents try to obstruct him, somehow he was telling those dreadful stories to me—seven years old kid. Those stories left mark on me. Now I find out that those stories were actually his life, and the person that he called as idiot was him. I always thought that stories were made up or at least, exaggerated; nonetheless old people like to exaggerate. Frankly speaking, I hoped for they are all exaggerated because to acknowledge the fact that people are nefarious was the last thing that I wanted. I learnt pretty much of his life owing to those stories.

My grandfather always started with his childhood because it was the deplorable part of his life. His childhood might be worst one that a child can pass through. He lost his mother when he was 3 years old. After 2 years, his father married with someone and rejected my grandfather as a child. He grew up with his 9 years old brother in a room where was used as barn. No one helped them, more over his father never visited for years. He learnt the meaning of being an orphan through experiences. He and his brother were trying to console themselves while they were gazing the deserted street, in the hope of seeing someone coming towards them to wrest them away from their lives. However, they conceded the