The domain of seniors

Call it changed priorities or different appetite for life, all our seniors want is some empathy and freedom to live at their own pace

BY RANI JHALA

Sixty-five, that magical number that I had so long dreaded, just flew by last week. It greeted me as a mature woman and left me an old lady. Suddenly I qualified for the age pension, and inherited two pairs of reading glasses instead of one. Sadly, it also meant that my memory now refused to remember where I had placed them.

My children had ventured out on their own and while we met often, the weekends were free and my husband and I spent those alone. You would think that a lifetime of living happily together would mean being content with just each other’s company. But when you get to our age, you’d want to socialise, to meet others who’ve shared a common past.

There is nothing more annoying than relating in detail the problems my flatulence has been causing me and to be told by a younger generation “Oh grandma, that is disgusting”. I needed a sympathetic ear that would hear and understand my age related dilemmas without comment or judgement. Only another of our own age group can truly empathise with our problems.

Our children invited us to their parties but we soon found that what their generation found exciting to talk about, was old news for us: Which nappies are the best?

just giving birth to productive citizens.

But what brought back memories of the places and people we had left behind were the social functions which showcased the best of local talent. The melodies of the golden era would remind us of the saffron fields that we ran through as children or the simple mountain folks that would welcome us into their hills.

The dances done by a member’s granddaughter or niece would remind us of the shows we had watched in India many, many, years ago. Senior members of the society came and gave talks helpful for us. Mayors, Consul-Generals, and government officials enlightened us with their knowledge and guidance.

Our little group has become our lifeline. We find mutual happiness, laughter and encouragement in one another. It has become the fountain that energises us and encourages us to look forward to the end of each month.

I want to walk at the pace that lets me look at each flower when I pass them. I want to chew my food slowly savouring its taste as if it is the last time I will eat that dish

What school has a better standing? Where the best sales were taking place?

We had already been there and done that and our interest was now in a different things: dentures, walking sticks, cholesterol, arthritis, reading glasses, mammography and prostrate tests. At our age, nappies are the last things we want to discuss, nor does a sale of five inch stiletto heels interest us. What we needed was a place to go and meet other of our age group and discuss issues that relate to our generation.

And that is how we found ourselves as members of a seniors’ group. We met on a regular basis and we enjoyed the socialising that came about. Ah! To finally find someone who understood what we meant when we said “the good old days” without the unwanted debate that inevitably followed. And more importantly to find another who had the patience to sit with me and hear about my “in grown toe-nail” and the multifaceted problems it had created in my life. And finally to meet people who not only understood the need for me to write down everything worthy of remembering but assisted by supplying the pen and paper.

We listened to the soft soul searching songs and hymns, and now we are made to listen to heart-thumping Bollywood tunes. Stand up and dance they say, it will make you feel young. Young!

Do they know how easy it is for us to slip a disc or lose a toupee?

In this group we made new friends and met up with the old ones. People who we had lost contact with, having immersed ourselves in our busy working lives and in bringing up our children. Here in this group we found information that mattered to us. Through this association we were introduced to the Government representatives who had been assigned roles to specifically help the aged. How wonderful was a country that gave the elderly the recognition they deserved and acknowledged their contribution to the community! For some this contribution meant an award-worthy feat; for others it was

But now a new problem has arisen. Not happy with taking over our jobs, our livelihood and our sports- golf and lawn bowls, the next generation is stepping into this arena as well. We were not yet ready to give up the microphone, yet they have come and monopolised it. We liked non-spicy food that suits our digestion. Now under the name of authenticity the snacks offered at the meetings are either burning with heat or dripping in sugar. We listened to the soft soul searching songs and hymns and now we are made to listen to heart thumping Bollywood tunes. Stand up and dance they say, it will make you feel young. Young! Do they know how easy it is for us to slip a disc or lose a toupee?

They tell us ‘Auntyji, you are only as young as you feel’. Well, I am old and I feel old –my aching back and arthritic knee tell me so. More importantly, I want to feel my age. I want to walk at the pace that lets me look at each flower when I pass them. I want to chew my food slowly savouring its taste as if it is the last time I will eat that dish. I want to stand at the microphone and tell the people of my vintage a humorous story, without the microphone being taken from me because a younger person feels they can economise better – both the words and the time.

We the elderly are losing everything either in accordance with Nature’s rules or by social intervention. These seniors’ forums and clubs are the last of the ‘our’ domains, where we can still be ourselves and where we can enjoy our independence and entertainment. Come and enjoy our meetings but please don’t take over. This is our stage, our drama and we are the actors. Let us show you what we are about. We don’t want to be who you think we should be.

Our time on this earth is limited – a year, five years, maybe even ten. Come sing our lives with us, but don’t change its tune or alter the words. We have memorised the original versions and have stored that knowledge amidst memories and associations. Let us walk into your world, don’t drag us out of ours. All we ask of everyone is to let us be ourselves. Love us! Cherish us! Tomorrow will come soon enough, when we will depart and the stage will be all yours.