3) "Write a story about what you see in the picture

Choose carefully what kind of narrative you want to present, who the narrator is, what kind of
story this is
in around 300-500 words. Sentences will primarily be in the past tense."

AGES
When she was young, she was worried about what people thought of her. When she turned into
an adult, she started ignoring their notions. But when she grew older, she realised, they never
bothered her.

She would spend most of the day sitting on the couch, beside her son's wedding photograph in
the showcase. Her eyes were always moist, sometimes with smiles, sometimes with tears. Her
face was gray and pale like a living corpse. Her body was covered with the wrinkles of the life
she has lived. Her intellect was suffering from a fading consciousness and memory. Her soul
was arrested in immortal regrets. And was shivering in a cold and gloomy room, which could
never be enlightened by the morning sun. Because the light can glisten the window panes, but it
cannot cure my grandmother's broken heart.

An elder, who has privilege over every sort of worldly comfort and unconditional love and care,
when victimized with excruciating torment is the most saddening scene in the whole world.
Company and empathy was all the widowed and aged soul ever needed. But at such a crucial
stage, she was left alone in the hands of strangers.

The paintings on the bland walls could not make her smile. The rugs and mattresses could not
keep her feet warm. The flower vase on her table could not bring colour to her face. Her eyes
were always searching for a familiar face outside the window. Because nothing could pacify her
ageing heart more than the presence of her child beside her.

But her ungrateful children, living far from the reality of life and humanity, left my grandmother
alone to adapt. In the old-age home, every day she would wake up with a rebuilt hope and
would go to bed with an unfulfilled dream. And she kept adapting, as she was asked to do. Until
she broke down forever, never to rise again.

No wonder this ignorant society will start blaming my parents and sympathizing with my
grandmother's departed soul. But this is not a story with a victim and a culprit. This is the story
of a life where faults are made due to differences. I was young, hence I bothered. My parents
were adults, hence they were used to ignore. My grandmother was old, hence she was
condemned to suffer. And it will keep on cycling through the ages until age will not make a
difference anymore.