It has Begun, More to Come

The Daily Post’s writing prompt Six of One, Half a Dozen of the Other has asked us to write a six-word story about what we think the future holds for us, and then expand on it.

Here’s my six word story:

Aging has Begun, More to Come

Now please don’t tell me to elaborate on this little story too much.  Such cruel reminders touch a raw nerve and it can get painful.  Painful to think about which nuts and bolts have started to go lose; which part of brain is beginning to fuse. And then I’ll start wondering when did this aging began?

Painting: Aging Hourglass

Do we begin to age soon after we are born, or is that process called growing in age?  Which means till our mid-twenties we continue to grow and bloom. In fact at that age we don’t even think we are ever going to grow old. But it’s an inevitable decline thereon.  So, aging is not when our back clearly shows the stoop or our head is full of grey. Aging is the whole process of going downhill, that begins with the cellular changes soon after youth; with the onset of grey hair or with growing aches and pains in our bones.

Basically, after achieving peak of adulthood, soon begins a slow degeneration of body assets given to us by nature.  Oxidation, free-radicals or whatever chemical reasons bring it on, it just has to happen. It’s a different issue that most of us are created imperfect by nature. Hence other than aging, it is genetics and our individual environment that’s the reason of ill-health and imperfection but aging certainly further deteriorates this imperfection. Aging may also onset some new disease in those body parts that we always assumed to be perfect, till at some stage we may lose these organs altogether.

Teeth show aging.  Even some children do not have perfect teeth, and even at the prime of youth many people have teeth full of holes that have been medically filled.  But it’s a different issue.  One day, teeth will fall off and never come back. Now that’s what is frightening.  Right now, my teeth are more or less the same as they’ve been for years. They did go through some early repair work, a root canal and couple of fillings.  But it’s different from what’s to come in the future.

Worsening eye-sight is generally an early sign of aging.  But then again, these days even children wear specs and contacts, and laser surgeries are common.  Between the age of 25 and 30, I had already developed Myopia or nearsightedness. Glasses though I had, I hardly ever wore them. Based on this neglect, my eyes-sight should have gone worse in all these years. Surprisingly it hasn’t but for how long will it be like that?  It’s been different for farsightedness. Till two years ago I didn’t need reading glasses. Now I most certainly do. My mother says, aging is not just about changed vision but also about problems like cataract and glaucoma so we should take care. And how do we do that?

These days hair problems too are not merely age-related as they begin in youth itself, thanks to harsh colorants. But aging adds to it. As in my case, my hair that were once my asset, are not very glossy anymore. Hair fall is another problem. Greying that began a decade ago is bound to increase in future. Hair-colour makes them dull and not using a colour will make aging visible. I do not like to colour them all the time so sometimes I let them be.

There will be skin changes in future. As such my skin was never my asset, for I didn’t have peaches and cream complexion that some other family members had. Moreover it’s always been neglected. Funnily, whatever little signs of wri*k*ing (that began whenever it did), are somehow not getting any worse. But who knows the future?

Other than these vain cosmetic criteria, there is inner health that counts more.  Again, whatever health problems I have right now, have always been there. I learnt to cope with them and I haven’t developed anything new lately.

Overall I feel I’m kind of stuck in time but for how long will this state continue?  If aging began years ago, it was slow, it paused off and on…but it will eventually reappear and take charge brutishly, what with all the defense mechanisms gone weak. That’s why the whole world fears aging.

.

Was that a dreadful rant?  Sure it was. Actually it was just my little story gone wrong.  I don’ t worry that much about appearance and I am happy with natural aging. Moreover I try not to hang around much with people who bother too much about these things.

And yet it is life itself that we truly wish to seek; a happy and healthy life at that. Hence I’ll change my six-word story:

Life has begun, More to come

Or

Happiness has begun, More to come

~~~~~~~

Time, Intention, Energy for Love

Here’s my short story attempt for the weekly Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. This week’s photo prompt is by Graham Lawrence.

Time, Intention, Energy for Love

It was the third time within the same year that Maria found herself searching for good tenants for her property – a beautiful house with lush gardens.

For forty long years she thus cared for her plants that there never was a rose neglected, nor could weeds sneakily occupy the place.  But as age caught up, she moved to an aged-care home.

Another retired couple, who soon occupied her house, had looked keen about the plants when signing the rental agreement. But other than strong motivation or loads of free time, caring for a huge garden demands plentiful energy. The couple soon left for a smaller place they could cope with.

Maria now rented it to a young family. And sure enough their school going kids did love romping around the yard during weekends. But during weekdays, the over-worked corporate couple and the tired kids would come home after a long day. Energy of youth was unaided by shortage of time and lack of motivation, hence the plants didn’t even get sufficient water sprinkling.

While a dried up garden and dejected flowers told a sad story, this young family too moved out when the professional man got a lucrative job in another country.

For selecting her third tenants, perplexed Maria now did some deep thinking.  She scanned the rental applications carefully and decided to go for a cheerful middle-aged lady who was an artist by profession.

Maria is now her happiest ever.  Her garden is blooming like never before, and the bonus is that her flowers are a part of many award winning paintings.

~~~

The word count of my above story is not appropriate but that’s how I could do this week.
Moreover I’ve been away from blogging as I’m unable to find time, intention and energy for writing.

Copyright © 2015 Alka Girdhar

Tears at the Mirror

Every time
I look into a mirror
I am moved to tears

Not because 
I look too gorgeous
but bcoz I do not

“Hey you! why can’t you be
as pretty as you look
in your pictures”

*

Mirrored face is fake
but not as unreal
as the pictures
that Picasa remakes

Actually that is an exaggeration, as neither are my photographs too good nor is the actual face in a mirror too bad. Both are average, like that of every other common woman.  But film stars and magazine models can very well sing this poem.

In general, these days people experiment with their photographs by modifying it slightly, giving it a special touch via picture editors like Photoshop, Picasa or Pic Monkey – lovely sepia, glow or other touch-ups.

Good thing is, most people use such image editors at one time or the other, so it’s kind of ok to do such touch-ups.  Everyone is equally fake, or should we all are equally creative.

Probably it is good for self-esteem; quite similar to the purpose of our beauty enhancing make-up, foundation, BB creams, concealers etc, that do nothing much. Illusions and temporary effects in this era of quick-fixes. Instant happiness.
But do they give happiness?  Well, kind of. Like children pleased with toys.

~~~

For:  The Daily Prompt –  Moved to Tears

Describe the last time you were moved to tears by something beautiful.

I rock!!! By being my own rock.

With time, I have learnt to be my own rock!  Even in times of dire need I’m well able to keep my worries to myself till I can.  I feel, any time spent asking others for help, can be utilized trying to do it myself. That’s because now I know many life answers.  Other than that, even though I try to help others whenever possible, I do not find it easy to ask others for help.

Not just asking, I sincerely do not expect or demand any help from others. Life is very busy for all such families who are working full-time or over-time so I try to avoid telling people to take precious time out from their busy schedules. I also do not judge anyone for not having helped me.

But I was not always like this.  Being born and brought up in a big family was a different thing altogether, when we all were dependent on each other.  Later on, the family I got married into was also the same, quite big though smaller than my birth family. In both these cities, both families had huge extended families with all their social events, perpetual marriages, birthdays, religious events and what not.

In big families people are just there for each other – simply by being there.  They do not have to ask each other for help yet all the work load, little miseries as well as bigger problems, literally every little thing is automatically shared, often without a word. Emotional problems also get taken care of.  Thus, inside home-front or outside, my native cities were full of relatives and friends who, despite occasional conflicts, were co-dependent on each other as well as stood by each other.  I too found strength experiencing the merits and the demerits of such dependency.

These were the lessons learnt during first half of my life.  But that’s that. Thereafter it’s been a life that was pretty much lived alone.  Alone means, as a couple with no extended family at all in the city I live.  A growing child is a company but he could not be our rock as such.  By the time a child is grown up enough to understand what life is all about, parents have already become their own rock.  So it was for me.

Years ago, when we initially migrated to Australia and we were younger, there were friends galore, rather one too many. There was too much of mutual dependency as our kids were born, school issues arose or we were generally helping each other settle down in a new country. But soon people got busy and scattered to different locations. Actually my family moved away. More new friends came along but we left them behind after once again moving to a distant suburb.  All these wonderful friends, who were very close once, seem to be totally changed whenever we see them after a long time. Our priorities changed, lives moved on. None of these groups could ever be our constant rock so we learnt to rely primarily on ourselves. Of course, other than these ever-evolving friendships, there are ever-changing workmates, besides the wider Australian community, new neighbors as well as Indian-Australian organisations. Helpful but they can’t be our rock.

Overall, when this process of change occurs a number of times in life – this parting from family and friends – we become stronger. Thus after this vagabond life, at some stage I became my own rock.  Literally I seek strength mainly from myself.  And it comes. It always comes. It’s there inside us.

For example, owing to my husband’s work hours as well as work-related tours, I often got to experience a life where, along with my own career goals, I had a major share in household work as well as taking prime onus of bringing up our only child who never had any grandparents or extended families around him. I had to do my best. I could do it.

Only after his schooling finished that I finally felt free to spread my wings around, to seek local people who can be of some help.  Such people are many and yet they are not many. Because only a handful of people in the world truly care for us. That’s not surprising given the fact that most people can’t relate to our life and circumstances, esp. those who live far away have not seen our life’s ups and downs.

And yet, through all this, my mother who lives in India has been my constant rock, even if it is more of moral strength.  I should not and do not expect her to be my rock, as it is rather they, our aging parents, who need us to be their strength which we cannot be as we live so far away.

Lately, as my son got busier with his higher education, another realization has dawned upon me that parents can’t keep centering their lives around their children, as they eventually leave the nest sooner or later.  Getting prepared for the inevitable time, I too am gearing myself to become stronger than I have always been.  Moreover, if the family structure and priorities change, all my previously acquired strength is not going to be of much use. That’s because growing young children need a different kind of all-round support and love.  But soon it will be more of mutual exchange without any expectations from parents’ side. Parents need to become a rock as they learn to let go of the usual smothering and clinging love they once had for their off-springs.

Parents approaching middle-age also need to strengthen their physical health, while fulfilling their pending career dreams and hobbies, as well as learning to be happy for themselves rather than seek joy only through their children who are about to move out to have their own life.  When children become less dependent, parents also need to renew or strengthen their family friendships and look after their own social needs. At this stage, I too will need more friends for things big or small.  Being busy with our young families and career issues, we ourselves drift a bit apart from our close friends and families, we isolate ourselves mentally.  That uncaring attitude has to go to a certain extent.

And yet, I may still not rely on too much help from others. I will always try to be my own rock – mentally, emotionally and physically – at least till I can. I usually seek internal strength through prayers and music. That will continue.

~~~

In response to The Daily Prompt:  I Am a Rock
‘Is it easy for you to ask for help when you need it, or do you prefer to rely only on yourself? Why?’