The Great Ageing Debate

What is age but a number, is something that we keep telling ourselves when we want to blunt the effect that ageing has on us. The first sign of wrinkles sends us in doldrums, leading to tensions, leading to further wrinkles. The first greys sends us running for that scissors, that pincher, anything that can get that grey out of sight. Then comes the anti-wrinkle creams, hair colours, visits to the parlours for hair colouring, visit to the doctors to get rid of them, and if all doesn’t work, then Botox. 

We want to be forever young, always searching for the secret of eternal youth. And if we were to find it, we wouldn’t just have a sip, we would be gulping it down, so much that we would be in danger of returning to infancy. We are so obsessed with youth that we don’t want to let go of it. We hold on to it as tight as possible, trying to grasp at it when it begins to slip through our fingers, doing all we can to hold on it. Each birthday is welcomed with a dread as if each new year will take us closer to the grave (which in fact it does). Age appropriate greeting is always greeted with earth shattering rage, as if the addresser has committed a grievous crime, a mortal sin, against us. How dare they call us uncle or auntie, do we look one (answer of which is most likely going to be YES... but we don’t want to accept it).

For all our fears and concerns, growing old has its advantage. For starters people will actually give you some sort of respect. You finally can occupy that jaisht nagrik seat that you always are forced to give up when a jaisht actually appears. People aapka umar kay lihaj rakh kay will underestimate you, will let you off the hook, giving you the opportunity to spring a surprise. You get a valid excuse for, forgetting, blame it on those weakening grey cells, for slowing down, after all our joint are no longer lubricant as they used to be. You get bumped up your race category furthering your chances of making it to the podium. You get offered seat and allowed to move to the head of the line. 

So live befeekar, live bindaas. Embrace all your wrinkles and greys, like George Clooney has. And although you may be no Clooney, whose stopping you from adopting his school of thought. So age with grace, even if it means slowing down a bit of pace. Fikaar not and just live and love life a lot.