10 May 2009

On growing old

My brush with the travails of old age happened very recently when my mother-in-law and then my mother fell ill rather seriously. My mother-in-law recovered after 2 weeks, and though frail is back home and under the able care of my sister-in-law. My mother, on the other hand, is yet to recover fully...
Having said this, all through this the one thought that has been playing in my mind is why old age should be so painful. My husband told me about his grandmother, Didima. Though I never met her, I've always felt a kind of link with her. Could be because she was born in Allahabad and lived in Lucknow for a while, and I consider Lucknow to be my spiritual home. Can't figure out the reason, but the link is there. Didima is always referred to at home because she was one of those wonderful women who never said die, no matter what the tribulations came along to upset the balance of her life. Beauty, artist, linguist, writer, poetess, avid reader of anything printed, translator of the Bengali books that Signet Press (her baby) published, you name it....and most wonderful cook!! she was an extremely dignified lady, dignified and gracious. She grew old gracefully. My husband says that she had all kinds of illnesses but no one even knew about them, because she never mentioned them or dwelt on them and never, ever depended on anyone for her well-being or happiness. No groaning and moaning about how old she was and what aches and pains she had or that she needed this or that medicine - nothing. When she felt unwell, she'd just pop some tablets into her mouth, have some zarda & pan, and get on with the business of living. She never ran around from this temple to that or this church to that. She never imposed her will on anyone, or gave unwanted advice. She was always around if anyone wanted to talk to her, if anyone wanted to talk to her. She did not have an easy life, but there was no grudge in her, and no complaining about fate either. Magnificent isn't it? There are so many articles on how one must enjoy old age, and continue to do whatever it is one wants to do. In fact it is easier to do whatever one wants because your committments are over and in a manner of speaking you are free. There are lovely poems about growing old, fun, encouraging poems. Didima LIVED every day of her life, and no matter what cards life dealt her, she woke up every morning, got dressed, wore her lipsitck, and came out beautifully groomed to face the day and.....she took on the travails of the day, and.....she still won. One morning Didima just did not wake up.