A picture is worth a thousand words

what I see

There is a man with a red turban, he is a happy man. He has a stick over one shoulder with a bag hanging on it. He also has a red spot between his eyes, I am not sure if this is a religious mark or if he got hit with red paint, or if he was the referee.
The man to his left is looking at the man who is losing his pants and beating a drum.
The man to the right is trying to get his friend's attention.
It looks like they have been playing paintball and now are celebrating their win.
One man got hit in the face by blue paint and another got it in the head with purple paint.
what I feel
I feel like these are all happy people and that I would like to join them, but I do not see any women so I do not think they were allowed to play which upsets me.

my story

The old man sat and watched all of the younger men after their paintball game. He was happy about the memories of his younger days when he could run from the other teammates. Those were the days, he thought. His legs were fast, he did not hurt when standing or falling. His eyesight was good, awe to be young like these fellows. But I have had my time and now it is theirs, I am happy for them but one day they will stand where I am, watching the younger men. Who knows, maybe by then, there will even be women playing with them. The old man chuckled to himself.