Dana, the female protagonist of the book I was reading had landed Russia to find the truths of the killings of the Winthrop family, just when the train halted. I was travelling with my mom towards Durgapur to attend one of her friend’s daughter’s wedding. I hate long journeys and probably that is the reason why I chose to keep myself engrossed in Sydney Sheldon’s ‘The Sky Is Falling’.
I reached towards the window to see the name of the station when a woman aged somewhere in her forties started tugging her luggage into the upper birth of the seat parallel to us. She was followed by another woman who seemed somewhat like her mother in law. She was wearing an odd colored robe, aged in her eighties. Her skin had completely sagged and was downtrodden with wrinkles. Her hands were fluttering and visibly shaking in a motion vulnerable to disease and death. She sat down diagonally to me and gave a wry smile to me, who was observing her from about past ten minutes. I returned her with a warm smile which was obviously in a context to show compassion for her age. I again tugged myself into the book. We reached our destination, attended the marriage and came back within a week. I totally forgot about that woman and went on with the flow of my life.
But somehow something made me fear. A fear which seemed inescapable. The fear that someday I won’t be gregarious anymore, my skin would become pale and sulk. The fear of being old, weak, depending, pivot and hinged.
The very moment a child takes birth, the life processes take birth too! Development, learning, cognition and understanding in all the phases start- physically, mentally, socially and emotionally. One goes through the stages of life, lives it, learns new experiences, deals with the external environment and eventually enters the stage of exhaustion ; the stage wherein one does not yearn for all the materialistic things.. Old age is tough on brains, sapping a variety of abilities. There is a story that in old age, man was stopped for speeding after a wild chase featuring three motorcycle cops. But is there any way we cannot face this virtue of life?
Man has created wanderlust of contrivance and has obviously soared in abundance. But some things are yet not achievable in his achiever’s list. And one of them is escaping the wrath of getting old and obsolete. One has to obviously go through this. And at the end there is death. Just like Alexandra couldn’t take control over this, nor can anyone. For me, life is like a line segment which starts at a given point and ends at a given schedule i.e. the moment you’re born till the moment you die. Scientist, from years have tried to procure ways in which one can escape death and the age of the wearies, but all in vain. This only suggests to the fact that being old is a natural phenomenon which everyone has to pass through.
Perhaps, someday even my skin would become insipid. Perhaps even I would become unwavering. My hands would flutter the same way the lady I saw in the train hand’s did. And there would be another me, sitting in front of my chair staring at me and my milieu and forget about it very soon the same way I did. I may forget about it but there would be a day when senescence and death would stare at me….