I am 98 today. I used to be a writer. I cannot write a lot these days. I cant hold a pen steady. My knuckles hurt to type. But I want to write, I want to write one last time, to assure you that I have been you.....and when its time, you will be me.....
I was 3, with color pencil in my hand, I drew on the walls. I drew circles mostly. Anyone who saw it either smiled or frowned. I got attention and in my world, I was convinced they liked me do it.
I was 6, I composed 4 liners and called them poems. Dad encouraged and made me send it to newspapers and magazines. They never got published. Mom consoled and said, "May be your mail was lost. Keep writing, the "newspaper people will get it some day". I believed them. I was convinced that the world worked based on the "moral of the story" that ended every story that I read or heard.
And then....I grew to be a teenager.I kept writing. But I stopped sharing them. I did not care what my parents or the editor of the magazine thought of my writing. I rebelled, against the editors who did not even know I existed. I revolted by not sending them any of my writings. I wrote about my best friend, I wrote about the my jealousy, I wrote about my crushes. I was convinced that the world had its sleeves up to go against anything and everything that I thought was right.
I was 25, I still wrote. I wrote about hope, I wrote about love, I wrote on what needs to be done to make world the perfect place. I started sharing my writing again, but now I was only sharing the ones that I thought would be liked or approved of. I was convinced the world could be changed and made a better place.
I was 50, and yes it was in my blood, I was still writing. I wrote about the past that I cherished so much. I wrote about how my heart bled to see the decisions that the youth made for their lives, I wrote of the fear of facing my future. I no longer cared what others thought about my writing. I shared them all. I was convinced that I should write to inspire the younger ones to lead a better life.
I was 75, I still wrote. I wrote for myself, I wrote as not many around had time to listen to me. I wrote about how the times had changed in the past 70+ years, I wrote about the lessons that youngsters should learn. I was convinced that the youth were wasting their time on things that will eventually not matter in their future.
I am 98, I don't write a lot anymore. Instead I am the one being written about. The kids write about how they think I love them, the youth writes about how I have all the wisdom to make the world a better place. The middle aged write about how I am repenting about the things that I could have possibly done a few decades ago to keep myself in a better place today.
Truth be told, I have always been what you were convinced I was. I have been the reflection of your past or the future you wanted to see in me. I was the same child when a baby thought I was annoying and an adult thought I was cute. I was the same representative of youth, when a child found me inspiration and the ones elder to me found me immature for being too optimistic of tomorrow. I was the same middle aged man when the young respected me and the old thought I was being too critical of the youth. And today I am in that group of 90+ where the young find me loving or even pity me and the ones older than me who are very few, don't really care.
Every stage of life, we are convinced of a few things. One thing is for sure, no one can be changed. Don't lose your happiness in trying to change others. They will change as they grow up, they will not change because you are sacrificing your sleep over it. As any man my age, I know that I only have a handful of years left. I am you, I had success, I had failure, I had parents, a spouse, friends, teachers, doctors and more than anything I had, I had a life, something I did not realize then, but now I know. I had a life that some looked up to and some looked down on. With all the struggles and fights all these years, I know that everything ends the same. I have a calm smile on me always....I have been you...so I smile. You will be me...you will understand.
I was 3, with color pencil in my hand, I drew on the walls. I drew circles mostly. Anyone who saw it either smiled or frowned. I got attention and in my world, I was convinced they liked me do it.
I was 6, I composed 4 liners and called them poems. Dad encouraged and made me send it to newspapers and magazines. They never got published. Mom consoled and said, "May be your mail was lost. Keep writing, the "newspaper people will get it some day". I believed them. I was convinced that the world worked based on the "moral of the story" that ended every story that I read or heard.
And then....I grew to be a teenager.I kept writing. But I stopped sharing them. I did not care what my parents or the editor of the magazine thought of my writing. I rebelled, against the editors who did not even know I existed. I revolted by not sending them any of my writings. I wrote about my best friend, I wrote about the my jealousy, I wrote about my crushes. I was convinced that the world had its sleeves up to go against anything and everything that I thought was right.
I was 25, I still wrote. I wrote about hope, I wrote about love, I wrote on what needs to be done to make world the perfect place. I started sharing my writing again, but now I was only sharing the ones that I thought would be liked or approved of. I was convinced the world could be changed and made a better place.
I was 50, and yes it was in my blood, I was still writing. I wrote about the past that I cherished so much. I wrote about how my heart bled to see the decisions that the youth made for their lives, I wrote of the fear of facing my future. I no longer cared what others thought about my writing. I shared them all. I was convinced that I should write to inspire the younger ones to lead a better life.
I was 75, I still wrote. I wrote for myself, I wrote as not many around had time to listen to me. I wrote about how the times had changed in the past 70+ years, I wrote about the lessons that youngsters should learn. I was convinced that the youth were wasting their time on things that will eventually not matter in their future.
I am 98, I don't write a lot anymore. Instead I am the one being written about. The kids write about how they think I love them, the youth writes about how I have all the wisdom to make the world a better place. The middle aged write about how I am repenting about the things that I could have possibly done a few decades ago to keep myself in a better place today.
Truth be told, I have always been what you were convinced I was. I have been the reflection of your past or the future you wanted to see in me. I was the same child when a baby thought I was annoying and an adult thought I was cute. I was the same representative of youth, when a child found me inspiration and the ones elder to me found me immature for being too optimistic of tomorrow. I was the same middle aged man when the young respected me and the old thought I was being too critical of the youth. And today I am in that group of 90+ where the young find me loving or even pity me and the ones older than me who are very few, don't really care.
Every stage of life, we are convinced of a few things. One thing is for sure, no one can be changed. Don't lose your happiness in trying to change others. They will change as they grow up, they will not change because you are sacrificing your sleep over it. As any man my age, I know that I only have a handful of years left. I am you, I had success, I had failure, I had parents, a spouse, friends, teachers, doctors and more than anything I had, I had a life, something I did not realize then, but now I know. I had a life that some looked up to and some looked down on. With all the struggles and fights all these years, I know that everything ends the same. I have a calm smile on me always....I have been you...so I smile. You will be me...you will understand.
8 comments:
Very nice thoughts .. and clams you down and let go of many unnecessary bothers..:)
Makes one feel hunble right, the thought that you will also reach there one day.
Nice thought Rithe, of stepping into an old man's shoes! Well written!
Yes Ambike, putting on old man's shoes was the only way to get my thoughts sound serious!
Not sure whose comment the other one is, but definitely thanks for reading
Nice thoughts Ritu..
This is the life journey, beautifully written,it reminded of the childhood days, it bought smile on me.
Rashmi, Vijaya Lakshmi - thanks for reading
Nice one Ritu :-)
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