Birthday musings

I remember I had twin brothers when I was ten years old but both of them expired within two days of their birth. My maternal grandfather said I had a strong horoscope which would never allow a brother. I was destined to remain brother less, apart from cousins, ever since. The rituals relating to new-born were also done away with because of this tragic incident. Probably that was the reason for which I never celebrated my birth day. My better-half after my marriage insisted that it be observed. Wear a new dress, go to the temple and pray for the wellbeing of all members of your family-what is wrong in it, she demanded. But I am an agnostic, I replied. Don’t be superfluous, do what I said. I was thoroughly domesticated by that time and faithfully obeyed the dictates of the high command. This year on eighth March which is my actual date of birth, I said- don’t bring candles because you will lose count of the numbers and those would be too many. If you still insist- bring a single candle indicating my first year of retirement. That appealed her. My son and wife conspired and bought costly dress which I don’t need after retirement. Birthday reminds me one thing-forget your age and if possible count it backwards. That gives me the satisfaction that I am getting younger-not older.

Loneliness is a theme that comes harping back constantly. The other day my uncle who is an outstanding scholar and academician told me-watch out, after some years it would be no surprise if someone finds half of the buildings of this city is occupied by old couples only. You may pride your young population but what you miss out is the empathy for the aged people. Silently I imagined the picture of old couples sitting in front of TV sets and watching the programmes mechanically without interest or enthusiasm. They need human company to escape from the onslaught of this unbearable ennui. It is time we understood the isolation of the aged. Again it is my better-half who ridiculed -age is catching up, that is why you are concerned about the aged. Were you that concerned at your youth? Goddess, don’t be my conscience to reflect on my mistakes in life, I shouted. Extoll my virtues instead. Did you say virtues-she demanded, which remained blank as a sheet ever since I knew you. Manifested ingratitude I cried, how could you be that cruel to someone after years of uncomplaining servitude? My better-half swiftly disappeared.

“What might have been is an abstraction, remaining a perpetual possibility in the world of speculation”. I love Eliot’s poetry because of its theme, its substance and the melody it generates. One feels like listening to the melodious ripples of the flowing water and lost in it.  

No one knows what is there in store for tomorrow.