My Take On Life -Post 50 Years of Age

“I don’t ever remember ever  being aware of going past 50 years of age and being afraid of “oldness”.!

Of course there are  things I miss about being younger - chiefly  the ability to pull all-nighters,  and chasing the cricket ball   over  green  turf ,and  having chased it down to fine leg or third man boundary ,throwing it back with such power that it brought out dust from the wicketkeepers gloves .I miss taking on the young  “pretender” of my crown ,my son at the squash courts and and   at times not allow him even  a single point in 3 games .!! I miss being  smiled at by girls I didn’t know who thought I was cute; and I wish I had the eyesight ,and memory  I had even five years ago… But quite honestly  that stuff feels pretty trivial. 

I’m happier than I’ve been at any time in my life these days. I have a wonderful wife whom I adore, and who thinks I have looked after her well and who admires me for my intelligence and resilience.I have   watched my son grow into a amazing man, who is so steady that I wonder whether he  was  ever a teenager .I am proud of my ability to teach and to motivate .I am proud about the fact that people seek me out to speak on special occasions and at seminars .!!  I have real, true, glorious friends, and I’ve been able to do real good for things I care about, like freedom of speech, travel ,write ,eat and drink the best wines and whiskey .Sometimes I work from 8 am to 8pm ,and yet walk my customary 8 kms to test and surprise myself .! I love my grey hair and thank God that he hasnt thinned my hair .!!I have travelled the world and met and seen amazing places and people .

I miss friends who have died, but then, I’m glad that  life  gave them to me, to befriend, even for a while, and that I was alive to know them. I knew Uncle Sumra , and I knew Jasmeet Singh(Jassi), and I knew Ravi Parinja, and I knew the Austrian Airline Airhostess ……… do you know how lucky that makes me? You would never know that because for that you would have to be me .

 I know the downside of age and the downside of time, and I am sure that the view from age 55 is not the view from age 75.I know the  importance of  luck in life .I know that I was nearly given up as dead in a Delhi Hospital –but rose from the grave .I have been unlucky to be friends who I thought were fiercely loyal to me –only to find that they were just opportunists and were running with the hare and hunting with the hound .But I am mature enough not to spend my precious time on thinking much about them .I am sure they must have had their compulsions .Good luck to them .I am sure they also must be as happy as me –if not more .

I wish the time hadn’t gone so fast, though. And sometimes I wish I’d enjoyed it more on the way, and worried about it less.

I miss Dehradun.I have a special liking for it and haven’t spent more than 3 or 4 days in it at a stretch for nearly 40 years .As far as I am concerned ,it’s the best part of the world for me to be in .Its not about roads ,hospitals and the clutter that one sees in Dehradun these days .Its not even about the corrupt politicians who have taken the simple and poor people of the hills for a ride .Its also not about the forests that  have been denuded and the land mafia who have taken over most of the land .For me Dehradun is about a wonderful childhood  in the beautiful suburb of Clement Town .Its about taking a bus ride through lazy and traffic free roads from home to school .Its about Prem Singh ,our domestic help bringing us fresh and hot rajma  chaawal peppered with fresh hot desi ghee made from the cream of the milk of our own buffaloes .I can still get a whiff of the wonderful aroma of the food as I write .I miss that .I get back a bit of it when I go back to Dehradun once in a while .Yes ,I live a lot in the past .Why not ?I am not running away from unhappiness .I am going back to a glorious past .

I also miss the way cricket is played these days .Cricket has been a   obsession .But I miss the way it is played these days .Of course I haven’t divorced it simply because it is played in different color clothing and at night with white balls .But for someone who was brought up listening to John Arlott,Brian Johnston,Dicky Rutnagar ,Devraj Puri and  the other greats ,describing Tom Graveney ,Frank Worrel ,Vijay Manjrekar ,Patuadi ,Farrouk Engineer and others playing  -it appears rude to hear someone raise his pitch when a shot is hit for a boundary .I miss watching Sunny Gavaskar take on the handsome Imran Khan ,or the sight of a lazy Bishen Bedi twirl his hands over as if they were on well oiled ball bearings .It was a different game .I miss that atmosphere and that class .Never mind how hard people try to defend the modern game .

I miss my school and college .I went to a fabulous school and a even better college .We had fantastic Principals ,teachers and friends  .We did naughty things .We had our crushes on the girls from Convent Of Jesus and Mary and Indraprasta College .But it was in a different way we went about it .The cell phones ,the computers , the ipads –have killed romance and the thrill associated with it .

I miss the great aura and spell that the actors and actresses of the seventies cast on us .If you see some of the early movies of actors like Dharmendra,Rajesh Khanna ,Shashi Kapoor ,Vinod Khanna,Sharmeela Tagore ,Saira Banu,Gregory Peck ,Doris Day (Kay Sarrah Sarrah ,whatever will be will be,the future is not ours to see!!),Dilip Kumar ,Paul Newman …….you will surely agree that they were a sight for the Gods to see .Now everyone looks the same .They walk the same way ,they dress in the same way .I miss the great variety of the past stars .

But life has been kind .The most important part is, that there has been very little I haven’t experienced .I have experienced physical pain ,emotional trauma,loss ,failure, and at times life  has  made me  feel small .But God has given me more in terms of luxury,joy ,ecstacy,success and recognition .In school,  the kids made me feel like a celebrity .What life  holds for me  in the future –I don’t know .I am prepared for everything .And I don’t brood about the future ,because as Doris Day belted on the jukebox in Napoli Restaurant on Rajpur Road ,Dehradun, everytime I went there as a schoolboy

“Whatever will be will be ,

The future is not ours to see ,

Kay Sarrah Sarrah”  

Even I Have A "Khwaab"(Dream).

Dubai is a glittering city .And it has a glittering metro system .And in all that glitz –I was confused .I was at the Sharaf DG staion and wanted to board a metro to Burf Kalifa .I got my ticket ,swiped it and took to the escalator .Soon I was on the platform .It was amazingly clean and near empty .And it was supposedly rush hour -7.45 in the evening !!I was confused as to whether  I was on the right line or not .There are only two lines –but I did not want to board a wrong train .I wanted to confirm .I looked around to ask the question “Will this take me to Burf Khalifa”.?There was a coloured man who seemed totally smitten with his woman .They were clinging onto each other and looking into each others eyes .I avoided them .There was a Chinese guy who had his ears plugged and was obviously listening to music .There was  a group of ladies who were in burqas and I did not disturb them .Then I saw Munnawar .He got off the escalator ,carrying a small computer bag with him .He was about 45 ,balding and showing off his widows peak .He  looked tired and stressed .His eyes met mine .I talked in Hindi .

“Does this metro go towards Rashida ?(the last station on the way onwards toward Burj Khalifa.)

He spoke in chaste Punjabi

“Where do you want to go?”(Tussi kithe janaa  chandeh ho”)

My ears cocked up .A Punjabi in Dubai !!Wow !!It feels so nice to meet someone like yourself in a foreign land .

“From where in Punjab are you .I am from Hoshairpur”,I said .

“Our family is from Jullunder .We crossed over during the Partition”,he said .And then his eyes looked blank as he seemed to travel into space and time .He told me that though he had never gone back to Jullunder ,his father had grown up there .He also told me he had a Aunt who had migrated from Hoshairpur .I told him my side of the story .I told him that my father had studied medicine at the famous King Edwards Medical School at Lahore and that my father in law was from Gujranwallah .He was thrilled

“My wife is from Gujranwallah”, he said .

I asked him what he was doing in Dubai .He was working for a Security Agency in a senior position .He was a resident of Karachi ,and was living alone in Dubai .He did not like Dubai .He told me that he was prone to bouts of homesickness and had just returned back from Pakistan .I asked him the obvious question .

“Why don’t you work in Pakistan”?

It touched a raw nerve .He spouted venom at the political structure in Pakistan .He told me how unsafe it was for anyone to work or walk around in Pakistan .He also told me how shadowy people who claimed to be agents of the ISI or the Taliban extort money from ordinary people .He also told me as to how beautiful women are taken away at night and dropped back in the morning after being raped .He spruced it up with the choicest of Punjabi abuses .!!And then he looked at me and said,

“India is a heaven compared to Pakistan .It is a super power .If it has guns ,tanks ,nuclear missiles ,it also has tomatoes ,rice ,industries ,agriculture ,5 Star Hotels and Malls .You have a guy called Arnab Goswami .I am sure you have seen and heard him .My God –look at the way he talks to your politicians ,Army Generals ,bureaucrats ,anyone .You have democracy. Pakistan only has guns and a sham democracy !!”

I was quiet for a minute .I absorbed the praise .I realized that I came from a amazing country .I realized how important democracy was .More for the poor ,because even if injustice is being meted out to them –they can speak up .The Press will pick it up .People will rally around Durga Shakti .Or Nirbhay .There is always hope in a democracy like  we have in India .Not a single South Asian country started with democracy –be it Singapore ,Malaysia ,Pakistan ,SriLanka .No other country can boast of the right of people to slander anyone and get away with it .Everyone is a Arnab Goswami (if one chooses to be ),in ones locality,state or province .!!I realized all that at the Sharaf DG Station .

He looked at me .He spoke again – in Punjabi .He looked at the sparkling lights of Dubai .The Burj Khalifa jutted out into the sky in the distance .The skyline of the city looked like drawings of tall buildings in bold colors.In the station the crowd had swelled up .There were Asians ,Africans ,Chinese ,Arabs ,Europeans.The world seemed to be compressed into the metro station .Munnawar spoke as the metro pulled into the station .

“Sir ,I have a “Kwaab”(dream),that one day people from all over the world will come to India and Pakistan to take part in its economy .We should be giving them employment and not the other way around .But it is a “Khwaab”!!I know it wont happen in our lifetime .”!!

I had the final word just as the metro pulled in and the doors opened .

“Munnawar –even I have a “khwaab”.A “khwaab”  that one day India and Pakistan will become one .Your father was from Jullunder and my father and father in law were from Lahore and Gujranwallah .We got separated in 1947.I have a kwaab that one day it will change .But I know it wont in my lifetime “

The metro compartments doors opened .I ran towards one that appeared less crowded .Munnawar ran toward another .He looked over his shoulder and gave me a thumbs up .I clasped both my hands above my head –signifying unity and friendship .And the I lost him .We were separated .

Just like our families were in 1947 .We called it Independence .!!