Sad Eyes, Old Age

 These days, my mom’s eyes are looking intensely sad. She was born with despair in her eyes. But so far, it was that sort of melancholy and anguish you would surely overlook amidst the bustle of her agile daily chores. Sometimes, you don’t additionally try to conceal your feelings; you just do it because you don’t feel it anymore. A powerful emotion takes time to percolate. You don’t have enough time to let it drip in. Life won’t allow certain emotion to take the front seat as it would disrupt its equilibrium. It’s still there, only to be found nowhere. It pokes you or pinches you at the oddest hour, but you have no idea out of what it originates.

I think, most people grow sad as they age. The finality of life is tumultuous and quite discomforting. Apparently, it seems to be the fear of death, or rather the physical pain that accompanies death. But at a deeper psychological level, it’s more profound. This sadness is a product of sudden epiphany of the utter futility of their life - an ever-elusive goal, regret of not trying enough, a topsy-turvy equation of expectation and reality and the likes. The concerns about financial failure, inefficiency as parents or not knowing what to do with the free time after retirement are just external projections of the tussle within, originating from avoiding the hard fundamental questions. What helped them to sail through so far, turns to be an unavoidable burden, too heavy for their boat.

Because, somewhere down the line, they realised it doesn’t always matter to be a hero for others; becoming a role model for the younger self, however, certainly matters.

23 November 2022