Old is not gold
Clutching the banister, he climbed down softly and slowly to the lower floor. Softly – because he did not want to wake up anybody in the house, and slowly – because of shooting pains in the knees. “You grow old, when you stop calling your knees as right or left, but change the names to good and bad” he recalled, as he recoiled in pain. In his case, both the knees were bad!
Swallowing early morning dose of pills, he continued to sip hot water. “Did I do everything right? Lowered down the toilet seat? Yes. Brushed the teeth. Yes. Put the cap on the
toothpaste? Yes.” He sighed. It was not always like this. He remembered
the days he used to jump out of the bed, and rush down, singing in stentorious voice, waking up everybody in stride. Feeble attempts here and there, but all used to be together, and once in a while, sing together. Followed by breakfast full of fun, frolic, humour and stories! Another deep sigh.
Now his life was full of DDs – and he embraced the DDs, complied with them to the best of his ability, but always short
“Did you ………………?”
And the DD’s came not only from his BB (wife), but also from his now-grown-up children. He scratched his head, and stopped abruptly. “Don’s scratch your head like you have lice” he remembered. Looking around, seeing no one, he continued his action; and smiled one of the genuine smiles. Like a child who, after much rummaging through the kitchen containers, discovers the mountain of favourite candies!
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