• Home
• /
• Opinion

Life is not like that for everybody, dearie

You need to stride wider when you are walking uphill. It is the law of nature. Gravity will pull you down and make you crawl on your belly, but you must gather enough muscle in your calves to keep walking

“Why do you work so hard at this age, aunty?” A darling niece from the other end of the world Whatsapp-ed in reply to my message that detailed my current status of life.

“Deadlines that fall by the wayside and to-do lists that crumble under their own weight.

That’s my life now, dearie,” I had written to her.

Now if that sounds like a mountain load of work, then it certainly is. No excuses for thinking otherwise.

My niece’s question was pertinent. But I felt the phrase ‘at this age’, meaning I am in some fluid stage of life from where the only progression is to vapourise, was slightly out of place and I fished out from the phone my latest selfie to make sure I still had a long way to be over the hill.

Nothing can, however, lighten the significance of the question I was posed by her, and I had an obligation to answer it. For my own sake and hers. Why am I working so hard ‘at this age' when I should be putting my feet up, sipping filter coffee and watching Lust Stories 2 while secretly wondering what there was to lust about in life, anyway?

Because life is NOT like that.

Not all people retire at 58. Not all people who work after 60 do it for passion’s sake. Not all people have made enough dough by then to call it a day. And not all people have mastered what philosophers aver is the stairway to happiness – contentment. To feel like a prince when there are only a few pennies in the purse is not everybody's game. Been there, done that, now happy in their log house, with no care. Like how my dad felt after he retired from service.

Not all people can live a frugal life. For better or for worse, I am someone with slightly bigger agendas in life. My dad spent his life viewing the rolling hills of the Western Ghats from our courtyard. But I want to watch the evening sun melting down the Himalayas. He picked hibiscus and tulsi from our backyard. I want to pick pine tree flowers in the Alps. He wanted to watch sports and news at home. I want to watch the Northern Lights in Norway.

It is not about greed. It is not about ambition either. It is about living life in a way different from theirs.

Not everyone can be like dad. “I have enough, not excess,” he would often say in a very self-assured manner, and I knew what his ‘enough’ meant. Dad and mum’s needs were small for as long as I could remember. I wonder if they never had dreams, or if they had consigned it very early for want of ample means.

But that isn’t the reason why I am working so hard. It’s all about the obstinacy of life. You need to stride wider when you are walking uphill. It is the law of nature. Gravity will pull you down and make you crawl on your belly, but you must gather enough muscle in your calves to keep walking. You can pause for a breather, but not stop and become a stone.

For some people, life throws curveballs in its second half. For some others, it brings windfalls. I know people to whom money is not their primary concern in the later years. I have also seen people past 60 slogging for over 12 hours a day and having encumbrances that their sagging shoulders cannot bear or shrug off. Yet they stay in the boxing ring because life will not let them hang their gloves.

Sometimes, putting food on the table becomes so important that watching Amazon Prime feels like a crime. Not only can’t you afford it, but even if you steal some time for a few snatches, it feels like you have committed a heist.

To many in mid-life, to work is the only way to keep the stove burning and the stew simmering. It is how things turn out for a few chosen by the Lord. The only other option for them is to shut shop and cease to exist. And that, I refuse to do, because like love that can happen anytime and can bring a cosmic rebound in a sagging spirit, you never know when dreams can transpire in a desk-bound life.

Perhaps, the next time someone asks me why I stay awake late at night, I must say, “I am looking out my window to catch the Northern Lights. Who knows when it might pass this way.” It might be a more acceptable answer than ‘I need enough money to live a decent life.’

I said, enough, not excess.

I needn’t explain further. Those who know will know.

(Asha Iyer Kumar is a Dubai-based author and children’s writing coach.)