Old And Forgotten

I wonder what it’s like to grow old and frail and feel neglected and ignored. I often imagine how things would be when my life finally enters the phase that opens the doorway to grief and loneliness, memory loss and sometimes even insanity! The thought drives me to despair, paralyzes me, cripples me, makes me feel sad and empty.
 
They say that misery loves company. That’s what bothers me the most. When I’m old and miserable, I’d be craving  for company. What if I wouldn’t have anybody around. I’m a loner and greatly enjoy my own private bubble. However, things are going to be different when I’m an old, cranky, cynical woman.
old_women_by_sleepy_face-d50eywv
 
I’m not sure why I call my older version cranky and cynical but that’s what I often hear from people. That old age is gruesome and that when you grow old, you become cranky and cynical mainly because to the young and the restless you don’t really matter. They see you as a stressful burden; they get annoyed because of your irritating, little habits. I feel intimidated when I think about it.
 
I wish there was some way to alter the aging process. Old age is when karma convinces you that it exists. All your most unwanted and nasty memories visit you like uninvited guests to torment you. You especially go through this fiendish torture at night when you are alone, and cold and sleep evades you. You silently weep. Nobody cares. Nobody wants to listen.
 
Today if I do something wrong, people listen to me. I mean even when they don’t want to listen, I make them listen to me. I have a chance to explain myself and reverse the damage I have done. But when I’m old, I don’t have too many choices. It’s not like people are enthusiastic to sit next to me and listen to my boring, ludicrous tales. They are too occupied for that like I am occupied today.
oldlady
 
Thinking of old age runs a cold shiver down my spine. I can’t imagine the horrors that old people see and endure. I have seen anguish on their faces. Old age controls you, grabs you tight and you struggle to get away but you can’t.
 
Isn’t it unfair? Today you are the captain of your fate, the master of your destiny, and tomorrow you are a slave to your wrinkled skin, surrendering strength, and fragile bones. A  cold fist of fear clamps my heart. It fills me with hopelessness. Old age is often painted as depressed and melancholy. That’s the scheme of life. What a dejected defeat!!
Written By Shumila Malik
 
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