Age filled Wisdom and Youthful Energy

“The Sixties are the new forties” screamed a headline and I, with a lot of interest, poured into the fine print and read the whole article with a lot of curiosity in a very short time. It’s the time, they said, when we are at our most stable, both emotionally and financially (Why that makes it the forties is questionable!). What I understood at the end was that the human race is socially becoming younger- physically fitter, economically secure and emotionally stronger.

If we are to believe this, then what do the fifties mean? Does it mean it’s the new thirties? I am curious… the thirties for me was the busiest time, children growing up, financial constraints, managing limited resources and trying to save for the future! Yes, I was physically fit and emotionally strong. The forties ushered in an era of relaxation. The usual stress of future, children and saving continues to play hide and seek but I am emotionally more mature and able to deal with them without breaking down (most of the time!)

As I inch towards the fifties, I wonder if I will go back to my thirties era where life was so busy that we never had time to take a laid-back holiday. (Holidays were meticulously planned and executed!) Holidays were in fact another event in our activity filled lives. Now the children are almost grown up. In a couple of years they will be totally independent and living their own lives. Then what happens? After living a life of twenty-five years of juggling finances, children, education, money, parents, time, resources… then what?

For the first time in my life, I went for a holiday where I was mostly in charge with my newly turned adult offspring. Though I did not arrange for everything I still had the responsibility to execute the whole trip. I really was looking forward to the break and I had decided I was going to “chill out”. I would not follow any itinerary, would take one day at a time and let my muscles just relax and lose its tautness. My neurons just fall down limply and get entangled amongst each other and soothe my over active brain.

We reached my beautiful mountains. As I breathed in the clear mountain air of Kathmandu after the smog filled streets of Mumbai, I felt I was as close to heaven as possible. The drive to the resort was a disappointment- the roads were as jam packed as Mumbai with horrible roads and the air beyond the airport filled with dust of the million constructions that were happening in the city.

After twenty minutes of driving we entered the forest resort. It was another world by itself! Verdant and lush, the foliage of the trees were dust free and glistening like it had just rained a while ago. My lungs took in gulps of fresh mint-tinged mountain air and I forgot all my disappointment of the city.

But our plans of "just relaxing" went for a toss! The mountain air tossed out the tiredness and we wanted to plan the stay and see as much as possible! In a trice we freshened up and went to the reception and planned out our days. The following days were filled with activities and allowing our senses take in the sight and sound of a new country. Though it was very similar to our culture, the pristine truth that is reflected in this mountain kingdom has been lost from our culture for centuries.

The highlights were our mountain flight and visit to the monasteries. The mountain flight took me as close to serenity, beauty and God as it will ever be possible. The Monasteries were another world all together!

The stupas which dot the kingdom still retain the peace and tranquillity of all Buddhist teaching. The monasteries are beautifully decorated and the tonsured monks who inhabit them emit an aura of gentleness and knowledge that has to be seen to be believed. The bright red and orange robes are in direct contrast to the peace and tranquillity of their countenance.

As I watched the elaborately dressed monks perform the rituals in front of the fire, I wondered what makes them tick. What does it take to give up all worldly pleasures and what convinces them to follow the hard life of a monk? What drives them to believe in age old rituals? Is it true that this life is only a stopgap period before we reach our maker and eternal bliss?

We might have a busier life in the fifties then our grandparents did but we are definitively not regressing towards our thirties as the article suggests. Why should I feel I am in my thirties? The ignorance and the hectic life is not what I look forward to. To be at peace with one’s body and mind is what age has taught us, why should I go through the whole process of acceptance again? I see young parents struggling to bring up their children, fighting for space and peace, struggling to outdo the others in their battle for survival… I am out of that now! The pleasures of parenting is wonderful- whatever the age of the child. Once a parent, forever parents till you die!

Though my mind remains youthful (I am still curious, I still find pleasure in new things and I still to a certain extent understand the fads of the new generations) I know a part of me is discovering the ancient within me. Who knows by the time I am seventy I would have the wisdom of the monks.

The little monks who fight and debate through the day is what I would like to be…… Wisdom filled with age and youth filled with energy!

 

 

For your Hoarding pleasure!

“Madam!” screeched the maid.

I came running from my bedroom to find out what happened and saw the maid with a Bottle of toilet cleaner in her hand.

Seeing the panic on my face she giggled. The million scenarios which were fighting for space in my brain (from pigeon in the bathroom, to fire in the kitchen….) twirled and whirled and slowly settled down like a dying tornado. I looked at her enquiringly...

“Madam, Harpic over” she said, gleefully dangling the empty bottle in front of my face…

Over the years that I have employed maids, one common factor in all of them (race, colour, caste no bar!) is they are the happiest when something gets over and they would wait to pounce on me and underline my shoddy housekeeping!

Years back when I had just started my tryst with destiny, my first maid (her salary was the cost of a Cadbury’s chocolate now!) taught me a lot about housekeeping.

Lakshmi was a slim trim mother of two who would come for an hour every morning and fifteen minutes in the evening. She would sweep and swab the floors, clean the few dishes and the clothes every day. She gave continuous lecture about how to manage the house, the finance and the main thing- store keeping. Every month two days before the washing powder or the cleaning powder got over, she would warn me to get new supply. Those days money was tight and every rupee had to be counted and accounted for. A couple of times I had not bought the supplies because it was the end of the month. She would then start on a lecture of good housekeeping and how we must plan our resources. She was my first economics teacher!

Many maids have followed her but thanks to her I have never been caught unawares! When the supermarkets first invaded India, I went around with stars in my eyes! It was lovely to pile up my cart with all the stuff I wanted without waiting for the shopkeeper to serve me. I had choice of quantity, quality and price under my control (plus the attraction of selling goods below the MRP!) I had this little diary where I noted down all my expenses for the day and balanced it at the end of the day. (Now I do it on an Excel sheet- thanks to my husband!) Till today I have a column named JUNU where I place any amount that I cannot account for! This is very frequent!

But this was the beginning of a habit- that I always bought a little more than required so that I would never be caught empty handed by the maid! At first, it was just washing and cleaning stuff, but slowly as our financial comfort increased, I pushed it to all my monthly groceries and even spare clothes and continued to cosmetics and gifts! I started planning months in advance about what I would need after six months and bought them as if the super market or the store would move away soon. As the children came and grew another item was added to my list- stationary! The number of sketch pen sets, colour pencils, just pencils, chart papers and decorative glue paint and what not, piled up! Over ten years we moved from smaller to bigger houses and my fad for collecting things never diminished.

Of course I blamed everyone- the maids, the children, the husband, and the unexpected guests for my fetish. This hoarding paranoia grew on me like multiplying rabbits and before I knew it my house was always stuffed with everything in the world. Soon I started forgetting what I had and added on to it in my ignorance. I had forgotten one important lesson that Lakshmi had taught me that always keep an inventory of goods. Soon unopened cupboards started bursting at the seams.

Thankfully it was time for us to move and during packing many people benefited due to my hoarding! I swore I would never again suffer from over stocking.

The new clean house was a joy to manage and everything was hunky dory. Till my first visit to a metro hypermarket! Oh! the bargains, the variety and the colours all seduced me. In a trice my cart (which was double the size of the one in the small city I had come from!) was full and I needed another cart. I justified all the purchase by

“God!  You know I have saved five hundred today and I don’t need to shop for two months.”

 Next month I was in the shopper’s paradise saving more money and packing all the spare cupboards in the house with stuff I may not use for the next year or so!

So the saga continues- every time I move, I throw away stuff that I have bought because I am “Saving”, each time I swear I will not buy anything new (specially crockeries!). Each new house has at least two cupboards full of stuff I will not use for at least a year... Sometimes two years.

 My newly qualified doctor in the family was sipping cold coke and enjoying her last holidays when I realized that it was the last bottle in the house. I immediately and unconsciously rang up the Kirana (groceries) store and ordered two large bottles.

“Guests are coming over in the evening!” I justified my purchase to the questioning eyebrows of the Doctor!

She rang me up yesterday from her grandma’s house saying that hoarding was genetic as my mother also does the same thing!

Who can fight hereditary diseases?????

Let me wallow in pure unadulterated pleasure of hoarding!