I see old people…

At panel discussions and book launches; in the corridors of conference halls or at the back of an Art Gallery. Sometimes they are on stage – gesturing gently as they share stories from a simpler time of a bygone era.

Some arrive in carefully chosen outfits: an oversized blazer paired with a neatly-pressed checked shirt, paired with shoes that gleam like they’ve been polished just that morning. There is a certain pride in their appearance – perhaps a subtle declaration of their being part of something.

And, I can’t help but wonder… Is this their entertainment for the day, or just a way to fill the hours between sunrise and sunset? Is this their way of staying connected, staying relevant?

They ask questions. They take notes. They nod thoughtfully. There’s something moving – even inspirational – about being in the presence of wonderment that hasn’t withered with time.

Perhaps they’re not clinging to the past but offering us a glimpse of the future: This is what it looks like to keep showing up, even when the world feels like it’s speeding up without you. Perhaps they are there to teach us a soft-spoken lesson: “Curiosity doesn’t have an expiration date.”

Or maybe, just maybe, they serve as a reminder that we too might one day walk into a seminar hall alone, shoes shined, notebook in hand, hoping to feel a little more connected – to ideas, to others, to life.