December 27, 2010

From An Old Little Read Book...

How do I begin this? 44 years back I would not hesitate. Words would flow freely and emotions would tumble out readily. They were uncontrollable infact. But these days, emotions peek out from their closet first, look around and if they find everything to their liking, they make an appearance, otherwise, they lie in the darkness, dormant.


I am old now. My white hair will tell you that. I am proud of them infact. At my age, having a head full of hair is indeed a lucky thing. I feel lucky to be writing this too. But yes, I am old now. I never thought I would be writing this one day. Today.


She called today. I spoke to her after ages. We talked about the old times, the young times, the uncertain times, the times of much anticipation and possibility. The times when we were standing on the threshold, waiting but impatient, eager, wanting to jump over, run, move to the next phase of our lives. There was such excitement and mystery in those days. There were fears too, but there was also this immense hope that things will turn out okay 20, 30, 40 years later. We talked about all those hopes we had. All those dreams we had weaved. She's moving closer to me. I am happy. We will talk about old times and feel close again. We will have our lunches in the sun and watch our grandchildren play in front of us and we will feel blessed.


You know, looking back, we didn't realise what we had. We had our youth. We were young and restless. We wanted the world for us. Everything was possible. 'Cause we had nothing, we could have everything.


We are here she said. Yes, I told her. Did you dream about this day? No, I did not, I said.


No one dreams of being old you know. At 26, you dream of different things. Being old is not one of them. Old age seemed so far away at 26. Like a whole another world. 26 seems like a whole another world to me now. I look back at those young days and feel an immense sense of loss. An immense sense of sadness for the young girl that I was. I don't know why. Maybe it's the thing we all feel at this point in life. Maybe.


As a 26 year old woman I once wondered what old people dream about. At 26, she had her whole life ahead of her, her dreams could be bold, anything was possible for her. She was young.


Dreams are ever-evolving; this is what I have realised over the years. They are constantly changing. As a little girl I dreamed of having a fabulous career, as a woman my dreams were of having a wonderful family. A loving life-partner, smart happy kids, good friends, a good life. As an old woman, my dreams are different. I don't dream of conquering the world anymore. I dream of conquering the staircase now. So yes, I do dream too. But my dreams are bolder. And yes, I do hope for magical things, for anything to be possible. The quality of dreams doesn't change, just the content. At my age, I dream of seeing my children happy. I dream of sitting on the porch with him in the evenings and having our conversations, our never-ending conversations, for many many years to come. I dream of walking to my granddaughter's graduation ceremony. Of seeing her glow with youth and happiness. I dream of seeing her dreaming. I dream of telling her to dream her biggest, most impossible dreams and I dream of seeing her most audacious dreams come true. I dream of meeting my dear friends and having a good laugh about the old times. I dream of cooking my favourite food and having a house full of happy people, sharing their lives over a good meal. I dream of warm winters and cozy monsoons and bright summers. I dream of seeing a colourful garden in the backyard and feeling the same sense of possibility I felt 40 years back when I stood on top of one of the highest mountains on earth. I dream of living a few more years. That's bold now. Isn't it?


I know what you want to ask me. Did I get everything I wanted? Did I see all my dreams come true? The ones I dreamt 20, 30, 40 years back? Did I compromise?


What I will instead tell you, is that I found what I was looking for, looking all my life. I found it. And some more.


Mmmm...I love this time of year. There slight chill in the air and the aroma of a nice baked cake. And looks like someone's put on a kettle of my favourite tea. We humans don't satisfy easily, do we? But that's what keeps us going. I think I am going to dream of having that chocolate cake now. Oh yes, a chocolate cake! How does a lady celebrate her 70th birthday after all?

3 comments:

Anymouse said...

Happy birthday

Sudeep said...

27th Dec, 12 am... :)

5 yrs I have been frequenting this blog, and trust me I am really glad to be still here. I would love to be reading something here on your 70th as well. Wish you a very happy birthday, and I will pray that all your dreams come true and you get to celebrate many many more awesome birthdays.

Btw, Divya's poem was nice.

teacup said...

@Anymouse, awww, look at you, wishing me happy birthday and all, why! thank you!


@Sudeep, 5 years! :D hahaha, how do you suffer me :P But thank you and thank you for the birthday wishes :) Really, it means a lot :) And I shall continue writing crap and I shall look forward to seeing you comment :P

And yes, I'll tell Divya the same :)