Dry parched land

Its been over a month that i have been in India, and the earth still seems parched waiting in vain for that beautiful impregnating cool rain. Rain that refuses to come while life is on the verge of giving up. Sorry bout all the depressive dull meteorological talk had driven down to this parched piece of land that my dad had bought ages ago , land which he has tried his level best to till and sow, but land which produces nothing for him except for heartburn and losses. The man who works that soil for him is a useless con artist who seems to get some money out of my dad every time he goes there. But Yet i see no harm in it, somehow this land satisfies some rustic bit of his soul, there is something there which gives him pleasure.

Its weird how friendship works. There are three friends , old and withered. There was a time when they ruled the roost, they had happy families who cared for them, looked up to them, they had wives who were social and willing, they had children who got along and who loved them unconditionally. They had siblings who were honest and united. There were family trips and outings, there were picnics and dinners, there were long drives and learning how to drive, there were nights spent just playing cards and gassing. There was a time even before this when they were children well atleast two of them inseparable comrades, joint partners in all crime , from their first smoke to god knows what i don't know all.
But now its all withered and fading , ones without a wife , uprooted from a city he knew, a city he was respected in, brought to living with a son and his wife , cant say he is ill treated, would say hes lost, his mates are here, his wife is dead , at times i wonder.
The second friend is the casanova, first wives dead , seconds a pain , tried for a third one but that was a shame, so the second one sticks, but also gives him stick but then thats life. to add to this siblings are fighting , kids don't care, body is hurting , but then maybe its just that he likes to crib. But yes there was a time when life was good and currently the tide seems to have turned for the worst , a faltering son and huge sums of cash , the father sticks even if his children don't care.
And then there is a third friend, who carries on, seems to be happy but no ones tension free, healths fading, and social life's dying, wife's anti social and sons a crib, sons at home without a job , yes thats me , but then its al right this friend doesn't have it that bad he has me.

They don't meet each other every day , nor do they even talk over the phone and im sure they dont sms, bb or fb each other. But its on days like today when they travel to a parched piece of land with parched throats and carefree hearts, that miracles happen and barren arid land produces its best yield yet. They know its for a bit, they also know where the other one will fall short but in the end they also know that no matter what happens they will have each others back. And this little time that they have they can rule the roost again, and be the three friends they once were without the shackles of responsibility, without the pain of loss, without the burden of age.