BEING THERE- LIFE @ 60
A decade ago,
when I turned 50, I wrote about the feelings one goes through at that
fascinating golden milestone in my blog, “Turning 50”. It was energetic,
hopeful, exciting and was the crossing when one entered the phase of being old,
yet not really old. It’s the new 40s they said as I reveled in the golden glow
of turning 50, not really feeling 50!
The decade
passed by, life in all its glory. Kids with their achievements, accolades,
awards, successes, failures, friends, social platforms and careers. It was as
though a movie reel in fast forward that they went from asking pocket money to
spending their own, from asking permission to go out to informing hurriedly
after they have left, from nursing their heart breaks to holding that special
hand with which they would now walk forward and forever. And leaving mine.
It was an
amazing decade as I saw my daughter turn first into a loving wife and then to a
glowing mother, all engrossed and entrenched in the life that she had brough
forth. It was fascinating to see my little baby become me to her baby. The glow
of motherhood and the sense of completeness shone on her beautiful face as she
struggled and worked her way to the changed demands of her new role. I stood
there watching, reminiscing and smiling.
Becoming a
grand-mother brought in as much grandeur in my life as it toppled all my
concepts of a clean and spotless home. My obsessive-compulsive disorder of keeping
my home in strict order was tossed out of the window as cries of hunger,
nursery rhymes, white noises for sleep, soiled nappies and tiny clothes filled
and spilled all over the house. It was a tiring, exhausting, sapping yet
exhilarating, exciting and simply a joyous time for the house.
It was an
amazing decade as I saw my son emerge from a gauche, awkward, shy, plumpish
teenager to strong, fit, bold and worldly-wise doctor who learnt to handle
human diseases with a rare sharp clinical acumen that he has inherited from his
illustrious maternal grand-father, a prolific doctor of his times, chiseled and
acquired with burning the midnight oil, as he learnt the ropes to handle the
emergency casualty at all odd hours, operate on macabre wounds, heal hearts and
bodies, learn from seniors and train the juniors on his way to becoming an
orthopedic surgeon. Stories of his skills, integrity, honesty and loyalty came
to me from friends, colleagues, his co-workers and teachers. His determination
to excel, his passion for the field of medicine, his ability to be a man of
integrity and the strength of his honesty was what we had dreamt for him as
parents. I stood there, watching, proud, happy and smiling.
The decade
was pushing ahead, yet life had caught me in the whirlwind of my own
adjustments to the rapidly changing digital world, the dynamics of my
profession that saw me struggling to keep abreast with not just technology, but
changes in the whole system of teaching and being teachers to the generation
zee. The protocols and new methods that changed the way we imparted our
knowledge of the human body to the new generation seemed to run much faster
than I could. I was caught in a time warp of the system that I had been
accustomed to. As a teacher, I had to wriggle out of that web of values,
principles and attitudes that had created my persona. Expecting the same from
the young, bold and restless, yet highly comfortable with “all that was new”
generation, was a task that I had to learn to unlearn. The growing years taught
me the patience and the philosophy of accepting the change and being it. It was
a struggle but a worthy one.
I could feel the pressure of age that never
was there before. The difficulty in molding oneself to the ways of the
technology reminded me of the rapidity of ageing. The excitement of buying the
latest mobile phone or being a part of the family that loved all things Apple
was gradually replaced by an inner fear of unlearning what I had learnt and
then learning again all over what needed to be learnt. My heart screamed for
familiarity of what I had got used to, yet the young ones around me insisted
that I ‘upgrade’. I stood there, fearing yet accepting the ability to learn,
unlearn, learn, repeat!
The decade
turned from one digit to the next, upgrading my whole being to what the rest of
the world refers to as, ‘senior citizen’. This time however, I could feel the pride
of being the elder one, of being the support system for all the struggles and
hardships my loved ones would go through, of stretching that helping hand of
experience that comes with living through six decades of life. This time I
could feel the peace of being in control of my choices, my work, my
relationships. I could feel the decompression of pressures of running the rat
race, fighting to win and hating to lose. I could feel the ease of letting go of
hurt, pain and disappointment that people around you inflict, knowingly or
unknowingly. I could feel the ability to understand myself in all this
whirlwind of emotions and protect myself from the inner storms.
As I stand
today at 60, reflecting on the years gone by, the twists and turns that made my
life so exciting and full, the people who loved me, hated me, ignored me or even
pushed me down, the family and friends who gave meaning to my life, I can feel
the fullness of this one life that my parents gave me. I can feel the
gratefulness of that Supreme Power that guided me through thick and thin, and be
the guiding light on this difficult path.
I can feel
the gratefulness of every moment. I can feel the invaluable value of every
breath I take, every sunrise I see and every day I spend honestly doing the
work I am passionate about, running my home with love and care and getting warmth
and love from my people.
As I stand
at the beginning of this decade, I can feel the strength of giving, forgiving
and moving on. When I look ahead to the coming years, I know I may take a tad
longer to catch up with the changing world, but in my own way, I know I will
and that it will be the most memorable decade I have ever lived.
In all
humility, peace, bliss and happiness.
Dr. Reina
Khadilkar
