old man...

 There are times when I ask myself, am I an old man? Judging from the greetings and the reactionary actions of the young, I am an old man. But do they really know what actually goes inside me? My blood, my sweat, and my dreams are still intact. The dreams might be intact but the contents are somewhat a reflection of the past. Yesterday I dream of a minister who `turun padang' soliciting  votes for 13th general election in Malaysia which can be held at any time from now. I told him my age and I told him of what I have undergone in my younger days. He might understand it politically, but can he put himself in my shoes? I doubt it. So in conclusion I am an old man. Am I? Old man don't write. Old man don't bite. What about me? Allah is Great. Allah knows All. Allahuakbar.