The Man Who Says Nothing

Silence, it is said, is the language of the wise. I had heard about this and read much about saints like Ramana Maharishi who said much by saying nothing. 

To find a common man living a simple, mundane life, and waxing eloquent through silence is a surprising rarity. To most of the people around him, it is unnerving and to those closest to him, it is often most exasperating. But their frustrated outpouring is water over a duck's back. He continues unaffected, unabated, as silent as ever. Maybe even more. 

He speaks when spoken to, though not always. He'll answer to the point, yet only when he thinks it's important to say something at all. Anything that does not concern him is none of his concern. And if it does concern him, it'll be dealt with in the fewest words possible, which is usually a soft, 'Hmm'. 

We might be sitting nearby roaring with laughter, he'll continue reading his book without as much as a glance our way. His funda is simple - what he needs to know will be pointedly told or shared with him. 

We may be engaged in a serious conversation in hushed tones. He might glance up once, that's all. He's no nosy parker. Curiosity has never itched out a 'who, what, why, when' from him. 

His wife may be talking dime a dozen, sitting beside him, yet she'll have no clue whether he's listening. Until she finally asks, ' Did you hear what I said?' Only for him to glance up and say, 'Eh?'  Frankly, I'm surprised how she hasn't yet socked him!

When I serve him food, I watch him closely for a hint of feedback.  No, not a flicker will be visible. Rare are the days when I receive praise or constructive criticism. But when he does, he conveys it all with a single adjective, 'Utkrushtt!' Trust me, it makes my weeks and not just my day!

One day, after much persuasion, he agreed to see a neurologist. Not because he complained of anything but because we had been 'observing' a change in his gait. 

Doctor: How are you? 

He: I'm fine. They feel the need for me to see you. 

We (smiling sheepishly): Hehe.

Doctor: Do you have any difficulty in doing mundane stuff?

He: I have difficulty in writing. 

Doctor: Since when?

He: Over a year.

We (nearly falling off our chairs): Eh?!!

We cringed as the doctor threw us a glance, accusing of neglect. Sigh… Facing such embarrassing situations was something we have had to learn to take in our stride.  

One morning as he sat reading the newspaper, he was given the sad news of the death of someone he loved and revered. The news was expected. Yet, I watched him with trepidation. He looked up, confirmed the news and turned back to his newspaper, thereafter continuing with his daily routine. 

Was he untouched by the news? Certainly not. But he's not one to make a show of what's going on within.

Like the lotus in murky waters, he is in the world but not of the world. The vicissitudes of life barely brush past him.  God must have broken the cast after creating him, for he's like no other person I've heard of or seen.  No wonder my respect for him goes up yet another notch, with every new incident. The beauty of silence is what I'm learning from him. 

To speak without a word

To convey without telling

To know without asking

To limit what he takes in.

That's him. That's him.

Shine On Silver Girl

NOTE: Nothing in this blog is intended to represent anyone, alive or dead, and there is no offence meant to anyone. 

When I got to know that my cousin’s daughter had delivered a bonny baby, absolutely delighted I called her up. ‘Congratulations grandma!’

‘Eeeeks!’ she shrill, nearly making me deaf.

‘Don’t call me grandma! I am still young!’

‘Eh? But you have become a grandmother and that’s what the baby is eventually going to call you, right?’

‘No, no….she will call me tai (sister), like everyone else.’

‘But why?! Aaji (grandmother) is such an endearing term! I certainly want to be called aaji.’

‘No way! You are too young to be called aaji!’

‘For heaven’s sake, being called aaji is not going to change my age or yours!’

‘Still… aaji feels old’.

I gave up. How can being called something, change the reality of my age?

The other aversion is to being called uncle, aunt, or grandfather. All these are irrevocably considered synonymous with being old! No matter the age, there are those who still want to be called didi and tai (sister) or dada and bhaiyya (brother)!

I became a maushi (aunt) and was called the same at five, when my cousin delivered a baby. That same baby grew up and became a mother recently, making me a grandmother at 30. And what a joy it is to be called aaji (grandmother)! You have to experience it to know what I’m talking about.

Old and older are relative terms. For my 83 year old father, his 60 plus nieces and nephews are ‘girls and boys’, ‘children’. To me these same girls and boys, being my cousins, are young people. Of course, I am aware of their receding hairlines, grey hair and lined skin, yet, I perceive them as young.

It really doesn’t matter, whether we consider ourselves old or not. We definitely know what our age is. I watch the youthful exuberance and energetic chatter of my nieces and nephews, aged between 10 to 30 and it’s obvious I don’t belong to that age group.

Mention your age and pat comes the clichéd phrase meant to lighten the imagined burden of being old, ‘Age is in the mind! Don’t worry, you still look so young!’

We grow right from day one, beginning as a mono cellular organism; and grow in leaps and bounds in the first year of our life. There is no looking back ever, till our very last day on earth. Growing is a continuous, mandatory truth of life. Yet, we shy from accepting this brazen fact. From dyeing black the few hair on top of the bald pate, keeping long the only line of hair at the back of the otherwise bald head (which looks horrendous as the hair grows and the line of dyed hair moves down creating a line of black and silver)! Laser treatments and Botox injections to smoothen out the wrinkles, wearing youthful clothes that look out of sync with our very obviously ageing or aged body.  Seriously, who are we kidding? What is it that make us want to present ourselves as what we are not? Trying to look young, in no way changes the fact – our age, the degeneration of our body. It is natural, normal and inevitable.

There is also that pressure exerted on those who don’t. With obvious shock, grey haired people are often asked, ‘You don’t dye your hair? You will look old!’  A firm, loud ‘So?’ generally gets no answer.

It really doesn’t matter how old we look; what matters is how we look at life. A change in outlook can change the look of everything around us. Nothing can make us look as old as when we are desperately trying to look younger than we are. Today is the oldest we’ve ever been and the youngest we’ll ever be again. Knowing that, does it not make more sense to make the best of today instead of trying to live in yesterday?

Let's hold our head high and stride out confidently; it’s time to let the silver streak(s) shine!