A preordained expiration date

It, definitely, is not my imagination, or what some may say, all in my precious head, perhaps even a case of paranoia settling in, brought in by what else, but having a stack of years to look back upon, with more piling up! Goodness, where went the time, you, sighingly, want to know…school, college, university did not seem archival history, seemed close enough for your outstretched hands to touch…then how is it that there is an effortlessly growing mindset that lays down the diktat—carved in stone—that, hit 40-ish something, and the downward journey commences! (So, what if the journey is endless!) Then the 50’s come hurtling in your direction and you’ve “hit half a century”, so you are, with a dismissive hand enlightened… (Wait till you make it to the “wrong side” of 50—days after your 55th birthday and the vultures overhead, not in your head, but actually whirring in judgement!) And then you collide, quite fatally, once the birthday cake is insufficient to accommodate 60 candles! So, whyever go through the trouble (the motions?!) of scouring high and low for a cake with sufficient girth to lodge far too many candles! Plus, what’s the fuss about throwing a party with a hoarding at the gate, bugling that you had turned 60 and so the big bash! It, definitely, is not about making a debut, a coming-out party, so why the hullaballoo?! 70’s gets worse—if there is room for such a possibility—and you are viewed both sympathetically and exasperatedly. How is it presumed that you need an escort, come party-day, to head to the loo, to climb up or down a staircase, or to press the right floor in an elevator…You were perfectly coordinated, fit as a fiddle; and would want to let the secret out that you could dance the night away under a moonlit sky, if you knew you wouldn’t be dismissed like a buzzing fly squatted away with an annoyed hand… Had thought I’d veer away from mentioning so, yet think it is imperative to add here—not as a borrowed plume in my hat but to showcase what, for most, is the real picture—that my father discoed his way in his 70’s and we, truthfully never knew with each passing year that he had added a year to his life! I don’t think it was too long back when my Mom commented how the 70’s had with every step, every spin, effortlessly glided by, and it was only when one made an entry into the 8th decade that she felt that somehow, “a sort of oldish era had settled in!” Mandatory to assert here, that this was not about going into denial but just a-way-of-life reality. Now, contrary to what many might be thinking, it is quite true…health issues not to be shooed under the carpet, but is not that the case at any age, nowadays?! Honestly! Those in their 20’s,30’s seem to be perennially complaining of shoulder aches, watery eyes, sore fingers, indigestion…these top the long list of ailments. Joined by other maladies such as high blood pressure

, obesity, insomnia, depression and more…They head, in herds, to Meditation Camps, Yoga Centres as if the air in such precincts supply an instant coffee cure! What good would inhale & exhale exercises do when your mind is swinging in a hammock! And meditation can begin with a stuttering start but how on earth can one think of contemplation, reflection when at any given chance, you tend to squirrel away whenever a side door is seen! The services of a doctor needn’t be brought in to alert one that the stated conditions stem from work-place cum personal-space digital over-dosing, correct? Yes, not amplifying the situation but nowadays deteriorating physical health and degenerating brain cells appear to be striking one and all —-age no bar! However, must swerve away from this subject, for at least in this earmarked space, and head back to the main theme… Age! We have somehow become obsessed with age, reference to how old one is, darts by with a regularity that would give a meticulously punctual office-goer—the sorts that you could, with his comings & goings, adjust the time on your wrist watch—a run for his money! (Not to let slip of the hot flushes brought on by the indignation over being outrun by this ageist fanatic!) And so because of this ongoing declaration of being rendered obsolete, you begin your 40th year with a long heaving sigh, entering the next decade with something that could go by the name of asphyxiation, spending the intervening 10-odd years silently fretting, that in case you touch on, what is officially recognised as reaching the senior citizen bracket, what further bias, prejudice would there be to face…60, and Society, more or less, asserts that your Innings are positively a part of the past and time to hang up your boots, and find a hobby to keep yourself occupied, or better, make oneself useful at home, as in running daily errands! (Hello, you might just open your mouth to say that, that’s what you’ve been doing for all of your waking adult life, but better to keep mum if the equilibrium has to be maintained!) Prudent to give the 70’s & 80’s a quick pass, don’t you think?! Not sweeping the passage of time under a lumpy rug but what happened to enjoying each year for what it was, to bask contentedly in all seasons, to see those crinkles around one’s eyes as laughter lines, the grey in the hair contrasting vibrantly with the black, brown, blonde…going by our growing youth-centric culture, it would tantamount to breaking the law, if one lived a day beyond 45! Inhabiting Planet Earth for more years, to face the start of being sidelined, treated as a shelved product, with a fast-approaching expiration date, not worth the while, in this age-obsessed atmosphere…

Funny, that we have the likes of Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan dancing to the galleries packed with teeny boppers and 80-something followers, who happen to be a couple years younger than the Big B, as he’s, for the past 50 years, been forever hailed! And then there’s the near octogenarian Shobhaa Dé prancing all over Instagram! They, you are glaringly brought up to speed, were meant to never age…