In many parts of India, particularly in the North, in the nine days before Dussehra (the Navratri festival) the story of Lord Ram is played out in the rustic folk play of Ram Leela. Held in large open fields, a huge stage with amateur actors puts up this huge prouction filled with lots of action and drama. On the very last day, as the sun goes down, the huge effigy of Ravana goes up in flames.
These days the Little Ones are in school but when they were younger, we used to make our own little Ravan and knock him down on Dussehra day. Over the nine days, the children would draw the Ten faces of Ravan and fix them over a body made with cardboard boxes. One Dussehra, I got the idea of making the Ravan heads with balloons instead. The Little Ones were thrilled with the idea and looked forward to popping their Ravan heads with pellets or with toothpick pricks.
They were excited when they saw the heads nodding away and waited eagerly for the day when they would ‘kill’ their Ravana.
Sadly, two nights before, there were ten loud pops that disturbed our sleep. What could it be, we wondered as we rushed to where the sound came from. Was it a trapped bat trying to find its way home?
And there we saw him: our little Ravan looking foolishly like a plain old box while the burst balloons flopped around him.
October 1st has been designated as International Day of the Older Person by the UN and this year’s theme encourages countries to draw attention to and challenge negative stereotypes and misconceptions about older persons and ageing, and to enable older persons to realize their potential.
Benjamin Franklin, the second president of the United States famously said that nothing is as certain as death and taxes. Unless it takes us unawares, most of us attain death through ageing. And ageing means growing old. But according to Ms Papaya, my young granddaughter who shares her home with two grandparents 60s and one great-grandmother over 90, one only becomes old when one reaches the ripe old age of her great grandmother. Till then, one is only growing. This is probably her way of assuring herself that the Senior citizens around her ( particularly me), are going to be around for a long time still. At least till she is old enough to fly the nest.
Now that I’m 64, I look back at the Beatle’s song “When I’m 64” which painted a rather grim picture of an older person who questions his relevance at 64 and actually laugh. Yes, when you are young, 64 seems a faraway, miserable and lonely age. A time in your life when you become old, crinkled and withered. But as this poem by Fleur Adcock reproduced below shows us, growing older does have its advantages.
Mrs Baldwin
By Fleur Adcock
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Trite as it sounds, 60 is the new 40. Many people have just about retired or are ready to retire and begin their second innings at a slower less frenetic pace of work.
Speaking for myself , far from being an old person dependent on others, I can proudly say that it is not only Hubby Dear who needs me but almost my entire family looks to me, if not for assistance, at least for a laugh. Yes, older people are today more and more relevant albeit mainly as caregivers and advisers. They also provide many hilarious situations for the younger ones with their ineptitude in tackling the computer and other gadgets, their physical inadequacies like partial deafness, poor vision and agility to respond.
With shrinking populations and expensive child care options, most working parents rely on their parents, or elderly neighbours, to chip in with after-school care. I have not only looked after my grandchildren while they were infants in Pampers but even today regularly stand in for their parents at school events. And I’m thrilled that I can still crawl under the bed to find a toy that’s missing or Google facts that the Little Ones need NOW.
Skills that were once mandatory for earlier generations but are now largely forgotten are handy to repair ripped hems, darn socks, fix bulbs and do other jobs around the house that can be attended to before the ‘specialist’ comes in. The seasoned cook can rescue a flopped soufflé or make a meal out of leftovers while a mature and more experienced eye can help solve a problem that is seen from another angle. They can give advice or counsel with wisdom backing them.
Yes, older people do have less energy than their younger counterparts, they may find it difficult to adapt to changes and technology. They might plod on but they do. Unless they are infirm, they have the surprising ability to carry on regardless.
The resilience of older people was on display during the recent passing away of the Queen of England when the world saw her children marching stoically behind her coffin, attending various funeral ceremonies, publicly meeting people and acknowledging their condolences. And of course, numerous old people were spotted among the crowds that lined up to see the cortège pass by, or wait for the last glimpse of her coffin lying in State. Surely it must have been tough to travel the length and breadth of the country, walk/stand for hours and maintain a stiff upper lip in a situation that must undoubtedly be filled with deep sorrow.
Ciao, I’m off to wear my purple dress and gobble down three sausages!
My sincere apologies to those who don’t particularly want to read about death, dying and growing old, but ever since I read Atul Gawande’s book “Being Mortal”, I have been drawn to death and dying. And since tomorrow is designated as the International Day of Older Persons by the UN, I thought I’d discuss the issues that were put forth by Atul Gawande in his thought-provoking book.
For those of you who haven’t heard of him. Atul Gawande is practicing surgeon in America. Born and raised in the US, son of Indian Immigrant doctors Atul like many a doctor before him, wields the pen with as much skill as he wields the scalpel so even a subject as morose and serious as this one becomes a captivating read.
I often wonder whether the Universe directs me to read certain topics because of things happening in my life or do things happen because I am reading about them? Much like the chicken and the egg, I can’t still figure out what comes first. Perhaps it is a combination of both or perhaps it is the presence of my growing grandchildren that makes me realise that I am older than I’d like to admit? Or is it the illness of a friend’s mom or the news of the passing on of another friend’s father?
Old age is fraught with its own problems – disability, disease, loneliness and dependence. Atul Gawande’s book deals with all these aspects of growing old and leaves one with a feeling of hope that old age can be something that one can cope with.
“Medicine has triumphed in modern times, transforming the dangers of childbirth, injury, and disease from harrowing to manageable. But when it comes to the inescapable realities of aging and death, what medicine can do often runs counter to what it should.
Through eye-opening research and gripping stories of his own patients and family, Gawande reveals the suffering this dynamic has produced. Nursing homes, devoted above all to safety, battle with residents over the food they are allowed to eat and the choices they are allowed to make. Doctors, uncomfortable discussing patients’ anxieties about death, fall back on false hopes and treatments that are actually shortening lives instead of improving them. And families go along with all of it.
In his bestselling books, Atul Gawande, a practicing surgeon, has fearlessly revealed the struggles of his profession. Now he examines its ultimate limitations and failures – in his own practices as well as others’ – as life draws to a close. And he discovers how we can do better. He follows a hospice nurse on her rounds, a geriatrician in his clinic, and reformers turning nursing homes upside down. He finds people who show us how to have the hard conversations and how to ensure we never sacrifice what people really care about.
Riveting, honest, and humane, Being Mortal shows that the ultimate goal is not a good death but a good life – all the way to the very end.”
Ageing and dying are natural processes yet we try and live life artificially- we defy the ageing process with simple cosmetic changes like dying our hair or dressing young. With de-tox diets, nutritional supplements and anti-oxidants we try and extend our youth till as long as we can and then finally we try and cheat death by defibrillators and ventilators and tubes that feed us.
All of us would wish for a painless death, an end that is swift and peaceful. With longer life spans and smaller families, old age isn’t all about pleasure cruises and Tombola but we can always hope and try to make it as fulfilling and rewarding as our youthful past.
This book definitely makes one think about why old people behave the way they do and how we can cope with their care.
If you are in a situation where you have to interact with older persons, I would urge you to read this book.
Twenty- five Seven 