BEING THERE- LIFE @ 60

 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