Advanced age hinders accepting more than it hampers understanding. The resistance fuelled by conditioning than sound sense or fair play. My folks know there’s a contagion in the air and that it’s a mean one – after all, the chief minister of the state can’t be lying everyday on the dot at 6PM. But why would it come in the way of life as they know it they refuse to understand. Or maybe just quick to forget. Like the people in hinterland Chhattisgarh who keep lolloping across their erstwhile backyards
Like my mother’s favourite refrain these days goes ‘every day is worse than Sunday.’ Then born and brought up bang in the middle of town with the landmark Kurisupally chapel next door and a busy junction where vehicles slowed to gather steam before springing in different directions, it was understandable that she found the quietude rattling. We have been living for the past many decades in the suburbs, about two kilometres from where she grew up which hasn’t diminished her fondness for clamour. A few days into the Corona lockdown,
(At home during the Corona lockdown, I decide to do some spring cleaning and come upon a bunch of albums where termites are having a ball. These happen to be of my folks from their years when they were younger than I am and dapper than I ever will be. As I show them the cleaned photographs, some make them visibly excited while some a little poignant, memories flooding of people close to them who have passed on. This article is also a note to myself that nothing remains –
Some people will tell you that slow is good – and it may be, on some days – but I am here to tell you that fast is better. I have always believed this, in spite of the trouble it has caused me. Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That is why God made fast motorcycles, Bubba… Hunter S Thompson, ‘Song of the sausage creature’ It was in the way he announced it. The Wall Street attitude and related
