May 28, 2013
Yes, of course there is life after sixty, as a matter of fact there is hardly any life up until one reaches sixty and it does begin thereafter. Prior to that, I tell you, your life is like a long winter, with all the avenues for leading an exciting life being shut off by diverse tasks of life, stretching right up to the time you retire.
Now look at the life I have had to go through! I was too busy. Have you or would you be kind enough to spare a couple of minutes with me? I want to say something and here I go.
You see, I got into this world at the dawn of 1941 and by 1947 another four of my siblings followed me – all girls - and then another two - boys and then another two – girls, by 1960 another two boys and that makes a balanced eleven – a decent relief team to CSK cricket team should it face the ignominy of disqualification!!
With so many siblings after me, my pre-school days were spent singing all the English, Konkani and even tulu songs and lullabies to keep them from crying and at times I too cried when they cried as I had too many little ones to pacify.
Soon I grew up to be a school boy. During the mornings I had a hell of a tough time. My two paternal aunts with a great religious bent of mind would disentangle me from my pillow, when the whole Bellore village was in slumber. It was I who was the sufferer, thanks to those religious aunts of mine making me trudge all the way to the church, tender as I was.
I was to accompany them to church, carrying in one hand a bunch of roses to Fr. Menezes, I mean to the altar, and an umbrella on the other, with my two aunts on either side, what a sight it was!! It was quite tantamount to a lamb being taken to the slaughter house!! I was so tiny that my tender legs would barely weigh my weary body and sleepy head to the church after trudging up the steep hill only to be welcomed by Fr. Marcel Menezes with a wrap on the knuckles for being late or whatever.
Soon I would slip into the altar boys’ attire and I would laugh to myself for being transformed so soon so saintly just by slipping into that attire and looking like a mini parish priest!! I would quickly steal a glance of my unwashed face into the mirror in the vestry and give out an equally quick chuckle, then like a good boy that I wasn’t, proceed to mumble all those Latin prayers that were at the tip of my tongue then but washed away by now, in answer to Fr. Menezes.
Returning home, my mom would placate me to guide the cattle to the grazing grounds and on return home, I would quickly gulp down that kanji, galmbo chatni and dried fish curry of the previous night, warmed to a thick paste in an earthen pot, that I detested then but now, give the world to relish it. My mom is a very kind lady still living now in her mid nineties.
Soon my high school and college days began. I would fail at times and then pass at times making my father blow hot and blow cold. I took science because my friend Albert said it is the best subject but it turned out to be the worst! I simply detested that mystery of chemistry and somehow finished schooling for I wasn’t cut out for science. Then my adult life followed. Just see what the hell I was going through up till then!!
My mother and others would plod me on to seek employment or whatever that brings in money. I hated this grumbling from so many in the house, I was confused, I simply ran away to Bombay - now, amchi Mumbai. That made some difference, I got a job, I kicked the job, got another job and kicked that too, for wherever I worked, some would like me and some would dislike me, and I could never manage to earn enough money to fill my mother’s diverse domestic needs.
I said enough is enough and then by hook or crook landed a job in the gulf and there I was again to see those same faces in the office, but only Lui was the greatest man on earth for me there. He has a great heart and he understood my plight. I was homesick, but Lui saved me. I loved his parties immensely. They were the parties like those of Great Gatsby to my rustic eyes -so to say. Lui, for me was the real Gatsby of Muscat offering generously the red and black labels (blue and green weren’t there) – a silver lining in my troubled life there. Curiously none of the other Mangaloreans would hardly ever be friendly to me. There were Lobos, Fernandeses, D’Souzas, D’sas and of course there was this rare gentleman Pinto. He was quite stocky in built, and had a heart of gold for a change.
Such was the turmoil amongst the Mangaloreans that an Arab colleague of mine once sniggered, that “You Mangaloreans, if there are three of you, there will be three groups.”. Groups were there and numerous at that.
Soon, by now, as was my wont, I kicked this job again and made my way home, sweet home and landed another job, and you know if you put on a bit of an accent and speak clean and difficult English that the person you are speaking to struggles to understand what you speak, I bet you end up landing that job.
This job was a government job at that. They pay you well for working not so much till you retire, and continue to pay after you retire for not working at all, and if you bite the dust, never mind they will continue to pay your wife too, so sweet, isn’t it?.
So, it’s great that now you are sixty and still get paid for doing nothing? It is only after sixty that you have some time to stand and stare and enjoy the beauty and the bounty that the good Lord has showered upon this good earth. You hardly have had any time to stand and stare and relax till then. You were completely mired in the diverse tangles and demands of life. And now that you are sixty you suddenly shift the gear down to one and feel the world around.
You know one thing, my children have all flown away to far flung areas of this wonderful world the good Lord made for you and I to live and love one another and now only my wife and I live in our house. Whenever my wife is busy in the kitchen I slowly scramble up to the dining table close at hand and ask for a cup of tea and in a jiffy she would come wearing a smile with two cups in hand – “one for you and one for me” and we both sit side by side and talk and talk and even laugh you know?
My neighbor Mr. Sahai, was working somewhere in some private health department that enabled him to acquire knowledge in medicines, and today he is Dr. Sahai well after sixty. What a lovely man he is. There hardly goes a day when I do not see him as I drive back home around 6 a.m. after my walk and the sight of Mr. Sahai walking leisurely with his wife is really exhilarating.
Many of us have heard about the American actor, producer, Mr. Clint Eastwood. I remember having watched his movie ‘Dirty Harry’ me holding clean hands of my then girl friend, now wife sitting by my side. Clint Eastwood is now 83 and he recently declared that he would go on producing movies until he is 104. Isn’t he a brave heart!
Right from birth up until you retire, you have so many demands of life: the studies, the job, marriage, make a home, get the children married, look after the aged parents (very necessary) and then overcome sickness and with all these matters to handle all through, you have absolutely no time for leisure, as these demands shut down all the avenues to relax and enjoy life. Till then life is like a long winter. It is only after this you step into a life of leisure and pleasure. There is always light at the end of the tunnel.
What does the poet say? Doesn’t he say that if winter comes, Spring is not far behind? So it is after sixty that real life begins so be happy and be merry.
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