I am 90 today. A decade younger to 100. Sachin is yet to score his epic 100 and so am I . The world will be different when I will die . It's population will be least affected by my demise , it will adjust. The corners will fill soon , occupations will take another dimension , my age will stop adoring me and I will soon become a picture on the most neglected ignored wall of my house.
I heard once , a quote by a genius - "Only the paranoid survive" . Now what if paranoia struck me in my 90's , will I live another 100 years ?
Early morning I pen my diary with all the thoughts crossing my brain . My wife looks beautiful in her 80's . When we first met, there were no telephones . Now , even the thought seems absurd. She looks in the mirror and adjusts her round bindi . A little to the left , a little to the right and I wonder is it really that difficult to align things which are round ? I never asked her this , it could be an intriguing question.
Meet Rama- my wife.
It was the alumini meet of my college . We had come down all the way from Shimla to Jaipur to attend this meet. I was elated to be there with my wife.
Rama was a beautiful noise . Mostly she remained silent. She was a perfect listener . Her early teachings of dancing helped her emote feelings through her eyes . Her eye lashes that were long and curled towards the end. She never wore make up , she never needed it . Her innocent face read everyone . She knew the mean , the weird , the caring and the harmful soul of our locality . Sometimes I thought what was behind her innocent face. She wasn't her face , she was her eyes - those beautiful talking eyes . And the best part was they talked only to me . I was in love with her as soon as I saw her. She was my second love , the first one being "Jalebi's" her mom cooked for me , when I first went to see her.
As we entered the alumini party all eyes were on Rama. She tried to mingle with other women around , but all the stares made her feel uncomfortable . We went to bed early that day , I was tired of talking and she was tired of being observed .
Most of the places we went , she was the center of attention . How brutally honest I was to tell her this and how cutely she dismissed her beauty and told me "I am only beautiful for you."
Today , I wanted to hear this from her . It has been ages since she last told me this . In between raising our kids , their marriages , our grandchildren , I lost her talking eyes . The only time her eyes talked was when she gave me my morning tea.
Over years Rama became decent . She replaced calling my name with "Aap" , she touched my feet on the festivals and prayed to God . Imagine an atheist praying to God , only to be called a mother of faith . She wanted to instill some values in her children and show them how bonds work , how science can only help heal soul , but can never give it life . She wanted them to learn , time and age don't grey your hair , experiences do . How values can become rare , if you don't pass them on. I often questioned her why she changed . And it took me so long to know the answer .
Early this morning when I told her , I want to live the last few years of my life with her only , with my Rama - the talker , listener , dancer ; she denied .
I again saw her eyes talking .
Denials were beautiful again , or may be I missed their beauty all this while . When you stop appreciating changes , you get disconnected with things that were once yours. She has always been mine .
How I wish the paranoid survives !
I heard once , a quote by a genius - "Only the paranoid survive" . Now what if paranoia struck me in my 90's , will I live another 100 years ?
Early morning I pen my diary with all the thoughts crossing my brain . My wife looks beautiful in her 80's . When we first met, there were no telephones . Now , even the thought seems absurd. She looks in the mirror and adjusts her round bindi . A little to the left , a little to the right and I wonder is it really that difficult to align things which are round ? I never asked her this , it could be an intriguing question.
Meet Rama- my wife.
It was the alumini meet of my college . We had come down all the way from Shimla to Jaipur to attend this meet. I was elated to be there with my wife.
Rama was a beautiful noise . Mostly she remained silent. She was a perfect listener . Her early teachings of dancing helped her emote feelings through her eyes . Her eye lashes that were long and curled towards the end. She never wore make up , she never needed it . Her innocent face read everyone . She knew the mean , the weird , the caring and the harmful soul of our locality . Sometimes I thought what was behind her innocent face. She wasn't her face , she was her eyes - those beautiful talking eyes . And the best part was they talked only to me . I was in love with her as soon as I saw her. She was my second love , the first one being "Jalebi's" her mom cooked for me , when I first went to see her.
As we entered the alumini party all eyes were on Rama. She tried to mingle with other women around , but all the stares made her feel uncomfortable . We went to bed early that day , I was tired of talking and she was tired of being observed .
Most of the places we went , she was the center of attention . How brutally honest I was to tell her this and how cutely she dismissed her beauty and told me "I am only beautiful for you."
Today , I wanted to hear this from her . It has been ages since she last told me this . In between raising our kids , their marriages , our grandchildren , I lost her talking eyes . The only time her eyes talked was when she gave me my morning tea.
Over years Rama became decent . She replaced calling my name with "Aap" , she touched my feet on the festivals and prayed to God . Imagine an atheist praying to God , only to be called a mother of faith . She wanted to instill some values in her children and show them how bonds work , how science can only help heal soul , but can never give it life . She wanted them to learn , time and age don't grey your hair , experiences do . How values can become rare , if you don't pass them on. I often questioned her why she changed . And it took me so long to know the answer .
Early this morning when I told her , I want to live the last few years of my life with her only , with my Rama - the talker , listener , dancer ; she denied .
I again saw her eyes talking .
Denials were beautiful again , or may be I missed their beauty all this while . When you stop appreciating changes , you get disconnected with things that were once yours. She has always been mine .
How I wish the paranoid survives !
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