Autumn is here; there is a sense of fragility in the
air. Leave are changing color, finally to shed and leave the trees bare to
herald winter. The weather is changing, we have days that are hot and a sense
of unease prevails and the mornings and the evenings become pleasant and it’s
the best time to be in Punjab. The slight chill, the gentle wind, the moon
gazing down but a slight ominous feel is felt. The wistful, magical weather
that is there these days is also mysterious and is a sign of the change of the
times.
I feel it, when I see a role reversal, we all are
getting old and so are our parents, uncles, and aunts and loved ones. I see the
gait getting slower, the steps are measured and one can see the slowing. This
makes me vulnerable, and suddenly I see the shift and the balance tilting to
us.
When did we reach this? It’s just too sudden, and it’s
staring in the face. It was only yesterday; that I was the youngest there was a
complete hierarchy with my grandparents, parents and then us. And, Now its changed,
we became parents, our parents are the grandparents and our children are us .
The wheels of time, move on not waiting for anyone,
anything. We, think we are untouched, even I do. I think this is not going to
happen to my parents or me and all whom I love will be there. It’s just not meant to be. In fact, we are so
busy in this crazy virtual haze ridden world where life is reduced to a
keyboard and what we emote there is the gospel. Life is measured with moments
that can be uploaded, shared valued only of the picture is perfect, and we are
in sync wearing the best showing the best. We as a generation are caught up as
the Facebook oldies, instagram user but young for snap chat and its antics. I
mean the frames are beyond me and frankly posting a picture with those flowers
crowning me or becoming a dog or having weird things accentuating me is. Well
lets a bit too young for me. Any ways, my boys call me mata ji and I revel in it!
I think we all have a young and an old spirit in us, I
seem to have imbibed both of it and right now with the achy feet, bony knees (genetic
I am sure), hair that went rogue and has a mind of its own bordering to an
eccentric grey and stark white with a penchant for fantasy books, magic, gory
gruesome murder and fiction, I suddenly feel I have to grow up.
Autumn is symbolic of change, of letting go and
letting the next season come. It is when the leaves fall and it’s the time for
rest before the new cycle starts. Isn’t it symbolic in us too? All our lives we
keep on building, collecting, hoarding reaching a pinnacle counting our success
by the ‘things ‘ it and we owns all measureable in the material things we have. And, one day we start to de-hoard, we start
to give way knowing that the time is coming, and success and happiness is
measured by the moments we have, by the people who are our tribe, who have your
back, who smile when they hear your name and who make time to talk to you even
if they are busy. Busy in fact doesn’t exist for them, when it you on the line.
That is success that is true happiness when someone cares about your crazy
coffee habits, your chaat, and momos and would buy you books no matter what or
where they are.
Invest in them; this is what is going to make us tide
the winter. They would help you face the next step. A role reversal is
happening and its not the bigger change that we sense worldwide with the
climate upheaval, with nature telling us she’s angry or the really fragile
political peace that can be unraveled in a Nano-second, it’s when we realize that
we are comfortably middle aged and old, ready to don the next role. Autumn is
here , but are you ready or are you lulled by the bright sun that stuns and
fazes you into a false summer promising eternal youth .
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