Old Age – My future

I am always in a rush, walking so fast to the bus stop that I can feel the sinews in my bones melting.  The pain is so sharp and acute.  But I hurry on anyway ignoring the pain.  I got a bus to catch.  And at the bus stop, I stand, waiting for the bus; my legs still hurting.  And when the bus arrives, there is no respite.  All that jostling and bustling and phew, I am finally in the bus!

As I nudge my way in, I think ‘ A couple of years later, I’ll be in my forties and will not be able to either walk this fast or jostle and bustle with these youngsters.  How will I manage, God’?

‘Will my bones be as strong? Will be able to keep pace running to catch the bus as I do today?’ are some of the thoughts that plague my mind most of the mornings when I commute to my workplace.  And I shudder to think of my future – my old age.

But last week, an encounter with a fellow passenger made me realize that my fears are so meaningless.

About 15 days ago, I happened to sit next to an old woman who appeared to be near 70 years of age. She had a small lunch basket on her lap.  Bespectacled and wrinkled, she sat.  And it is usually only the senior citizens who converse.

And so the old lady began asking me questions.  Then it was my turn.  And as she told me about herself, I felt a mixture of feelings that were at that time indescribable.

Though we started from the same point, she had to travel much farther than me.  For another 40 minutes.

She worked in a hostel, she said.  Her timings were 8.00 am to evening 7.00!

‘So at what time do you start?’ I asked her.

‘At 6.00 in the morning!’ She replied.

‘So what time do you get up to cook breakfast and pack your lunch?’ I asked guessing the answer.

‘I get up at 4 am, beta’ She answered.

At four in these winters?  I felt so guilty, because I wake up only at 7.30 am.  Hw does she manage, the poor lady, I thought, feeling sorry for her.

She works at this age because her sons don’t look after her.  What an ordeal it must be for her. Day in and day out she slogs.  At home and at the hostel where she is employed.  No respite even in old age.  And that too for such long exhaustive hours.  Surely her work also must be equally tiring like the travel she undertakes every day.  She was at some menial job at the hostel.

And here I was, thinking of old age in my thirties.  Every day when I am exhausted, I tell myself ‘ A few years from now, I am going to retire, I cant take it anymore’.  And when I saw this woman beside me – I wondered what kept her going at this age?  Whereas I am so uncertain of my future, my old age.  I kept thinking of her for a long time. 

Questions like ‘Why do people long for sons when sons neglect their parents like this and force them to work in old age?’

‘Why are children so selfish and callous that they cannot take care of their aging parents?’

‘How many more such old people work like this whose children have abandoned them’?

I recalled all those horrendous things I read in the newspapers about children abandoning their parents in different locations far from their houses so the old people cannot find their way back. 

And I also recalled the various cases in the court of law where aging parents have filed against their hardhearted children.  Why have we become so materialistic that we have forgotten our ethics? Our gratitude towards our parents? There seemed no answer as I went on and on pondering over this issue.

It must be sheer determination that makes the old woman get up at 4 am day after day and slog her old bones through out the day.

It must also be the fact that she has no choice to retire and relax that keeps her going.

Whatever.  It saddened me and made me realize, like always, that I am so much more privileged.  And that I should count my blessings and be grateful instead of cribbing.

And as I entered my home, I greeted my mother with a new awareness.