Old Enough To Fool Around!


‘What? But aren’t they too old for that kind of stuff? They’re going to make a fool of themselves!’

That was my reaction to a programme being organised at a local club – a fancy-dress competition for senior citizens.

‘What’s wrong with that? Not everyone would have taken part in such competitions as children. They’re putting in a lot of effort for this.’

There wasn’t much I could say to that. And so we decided to attend the programme. Although, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed.

A red carpet had been rolled out at the entrance, leading up the room where the competition was being held. There were few people outside – the guards, cleaners, and an old woman with a begging bowl. I wondered how she managed to enter the gates, but I didn’t bother looking her way, as she noisily shook her bowl for alms.

The programme had already begun when we entered the hall. The audience was a fairly large one, and we made our way to the last row.

Three anchors took turns to speak to the audience. The chief guest was introduced, the traditional lamp was lit, and then a book, written by one of the members of the organisation, was launched.

Eventually, the competition began, and the first participant was called to the stage.

“We have a surprise participant today. He is ninety five years… young! Oh I beg your pardon – ninety six. Ladies and gentlemen, ninety six!” The audience began murmuring, and there was excitement in the air, as the old man slowly made his way inside, his frail body supported by a young girl, his face covered with a veil. And then he shook a bowl, full of loose change.

I was shocked.

Only a few minutes earlier I had seen him at the entrance, and given ‘her’ a cold snub. And there (s)he was. The oldest man in the room, dressed as a beggar woman! He could barely move, but he sure had a great sense of humour. I only hope I wasn’t the only one to be fooled.

The rest of the show tried to keep up with this exciting start, with ladies and gentlemen dressed up in colourful regional attire, and some interesting and hilarious dialogues. Everyone was cheerful and there was good humour all around.

But of course the evening belonged to the youngster.

And I came home wondering, who was the old one there?

Why Blog?


writing
Power Of Words – Antonio Litterio CC-BY-SA-3.0

Some time back, I stumbled upon a video. And I liked it so much, I watched it again, and now I’m sharing it with you (for those who’re impatient, its at the bottom of the post!)

Elizabeth Gilbert, author of ‘Eat Pray Love’, talks about creativity as an external ‘genie’, and how creativity comes to an artist, instead of creativity coming from within an artist.

This video made me realise how many times an idea or thought came to me. My genie came in the form of little bursts of inspiration. And when she came, she gave me sleepless nights. At times I’ve woken up at unearthly hours* , unable to sleep, till I have written down something. And even afterwards, I have felt uneasy at not having published it. Sometimes I’m just too tired to listen to her, and I tell her to come another time. And of course she doesn’t.

This creati-genie has inspired quite a few posts on this blog. And clearly, right now, my genie is on vacation. Or perhaps I’m the one who isn’t sensing her.

Maybe she’s somewhere around me, reading this post. Maybe she’s screaming something, desperately trying to grab my attention. Or maybe she’s just smirking, enjoying the fact that I miss her.

Off late, as I haven’t been blogging, I’ve felt frustrated. Or perhaps my frustration is making me lose connection with my genie.

I’ve had to work hard on this post. It doesn’t help that I actually drove my genie away. But I shall try to answer the question The Daily Post asked bloggers.

Why do I blog?

There may not be just one single answer. And it is most likely a combination of several answers.

Perhaps it is the want of attention, the emotional high of being heard.

Perhaps it is to share our world with others.

Perhaps it is a journal, a memory bank, should we need to refresh our own memories.

Perhaps it is to vent out the frustration within.

Perhaps it is to discover a few things about our own selves.

Or perhaps it is to allow the genies sitting on the window-sill next to us, to take the spotlight for a while.

And maybe, just maybe, it is to sleep more peacefully at night.

I’d hoped to celebrate my 100th post with my genie. But, I suppose she deserves a little break!

I hope you like this TED Talk as much as I did. Is your genie with you? How has your genie helped/troubled you? Let me know in comments…

* unearthly hours here refers to what I term as unearthly – which is not necessarily beyond midnight, but likely at the hour when you are busy relishing your dinner!

And now I wonder… Why does WordPress Blog??

Born To Fly


Butterfly

I was walking on a footpath next to a busy road when I saw her. On a bed of yellow dried leaves, she lay motionless.

Her black velvety skin, and bright blue spots were in sharp contrast to her surroundings. I went close to her. I expected her to spread her wings and fly. But she didn’t. I gently nudged her with my toe. There was no response. I bent down to get a closer look. Slowly, and carefully, I picked her up, and held her in my palms.

She was beautiful.

Her wings were closed. Her feelers stiff. It was clear that her soul had left her body. But was she really lifeless?

I took a step forward, and she moved.

I stopped. And her movements stopped as well.

Perhaps the wind was as fascinated by her, as I was. But something about the way she moved made me wonder. Was it the wind trying to take her away, or was she trying fly? For the next three hours, I held on to her. She tried her best to escape. And I did my best to restrict her movements. Twice she slipped from my cupped hands, and even broke her feelers. But I was determined to keep her.

I brought her home with me. I placed her on top of a cupboard and went to have some tea. When I returned, she was gone. I tried searching for her. But my efforts were in vain.

I was mistaken about her. True, her body had lost its ability to fly. But that didn’t stop her from flying.