The ‘Ageing Syndrome’: musings

Ageing is a curious study in contrasts. These twilight years are in fact a ceaseless pendulum that swings from one extreme to the other: the exuberance of youth that once was at one end, and the sombre silence of the grave that shall be, at the other. Weeks and months now seem to have acquired an accelerated pace, slipping away faster than before. As if carried on wings, the heady days of youth seem to recede looking ever so distant with almost each passing day. Nostalgia becomes a regular and frequent visitor to occupy your mind and heart. The day when you wake up refreshed, recharged and energetic after a good night’s sleep, you feel like cocking a snook at the approaching ‘budhaapa’. The rise in dopamine tickles your fancies.  “All is still not lost,” you tell yourself with a sly chuckle. “To hell with old age. I can still jump and dance, and why, even romance a bit.”  There is a spring of youth in your feet and joie-de-vivre in your heart. Humming the old popular song “Abhi to main jawan hoon”, you look at the mirror with a new perspective. The wrinkles seem to have smoothed away and your salt-pepper coiffure looks less grey. The naughtiness of those youthful days sneaks in and begins to tiptoe on your mindscape with a wink. You shave well, dress well and venture out of the monotony of home and its mundane rigmarole of routine with a twinkle in the eye- eager to savour, nay, devour all that is lovely and beautiful on the platter of life.

However, on days when you are listless and out of sorts, the ‘D-day’ seems not too far. You hear its ominous knock and din louder than ever.  Suddenly, vague fears, hitherto lurking in a remote corner, leap out of their comatose slumber and start to dance and sing like evil witches eager to stew their noxious brew for your last journey. And it gets worse when you are down with some ailment. Even a minor one fills you with dread fearing the worst. Chest pain sounds like a trigger for a heart attack. An aching tummy feels like a hideous lymphoma secretly eyeing its chance to waylay you with shock and surprise. Sudden bouts of cough that persist sound like grim warning bells. In every coughing fit you discern a painful reminder of your pulls and puffs of Panama and Wills Navy cut cigarettes you enjoyed with haughty arrogance of youth. And you are filled with utmost regret at your misplaced zeal for those nicotine fumes you flaunted to declare your manliness and impress the elusive ladies that your heart ached for.

Thus, it is a bizarre see-saw, the up and down mood swings that you encounter on a recurring and almost day-to-day basis, depending upon the state of mind you are in.

I am sure all Homo sapiens, big and small, suffer from this ‘ageing syndrome’ in varying degrees. It is true that science  - despite being on the back foot in these days of weapons and wars, and jingoistic leaders  - Trump, Putin and Netanyahu et al  - makes tall claims about combating old age. Yuval Noah Harari waxes eloquent on ‘age reversal’ in his bestselling books. As a diehard science ‘bhakt’, I don’t dispute these claims. But for those of us in our sunset years, it may be too long for the green shoots of hope to blossom and bring us back our vibrant youth with all its fun, follies and foibles.  

So, fellow ageing friends, let’s live to the fullest on the days when we are upbeat: with music, cheer, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Kabir, Tulsi, Ravi Shankar, Sahir, and ‘Emily in Paris’, topped by an occasional drink. And let’s keep our chins up on days when we are down and low, aware that of the pendulum will soon swing the other way too.

Happy ageing.

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