50s are the new 30s? Stuff and nonsense!

rakeshkdahiya,

Had recently come across a Whatsapp forward posted by a very wise man. It said, “Beware! I am retired. I know everything and I have the all the time to tell you about it”.

I too am retired and I too know everything. But no one listens to me.  I had visualised my retired life as follows:-

Get up at about 9 am. Have tea. Read newspaper from start to end, all classifieds included. Write long letters to the editor about the ills plaguing our country and generous suggestions for the Finance Minister, all over a second cup of tea. Breakfast at 1100 hrs and then skip across to the club for some bridge/light reading. Lunch at the club with a beer as an apéritif. Snooze thereafter till about 1730 hrs, followed by way of some cardio, frequent trips to the kitchen. Bathe and prepare myself for drinks and peanuts by 1945 hrs. Post dinner, and in recognition of the fact that laughter is the best medicine, watch Arnab Goswami and mind refreshed thus, sleep by 1030 hrs. You will notice that my views on exercise being clear (and you can read about it here), it find no mention in my visualised daily schedule.

If only wishes were horses. Being a progressive individual, and thinking I had all the time in the world, I made this error of starting a Twitter (renamed intriguingly as X now).  Now I have nothing against social media mind you, only the people on social media. Particularly those of my age  (55-65 years) who, blasted souls, regularly pull me down by posting about their superhuman exploits. Such as:-

“Just completed the Muzzafarnagar Marathon”. (Complete with smiling photo and a zoomed in certificate of completion as proof.)

“Great fun participating in ‘Iron Man’ over the past four days.”

“What the ultra marathon at Ladakh taught me.”

Now, I consider it an achievement if I can bend and ties my shoes laces and hence you will agree, these fitness fanatics are annoying.  Listen to your body say these fanatics. They scoff when I tell them that I am listening and my body says it wants deep fried samosas.  The Wife on the other hand admires the above individuals. Not that she ever attempts anything remotely physical herself. All her concerns about health revolve around improving MY health. She has a whole lot of seemingly concerned suggestions/hints such as “bulging a bit around the waist, eh?”. Or, “look at him. He is five years older than you.”  I try to reason with her thus, “Isn’t carrying weights also exercise? I am already carrying an extra 15 kgs”. I thought that would stump her, but yes, you guessed right, no luck.

Cheesed, I make plans to catch up for some drinks with an old batchmate only to be told, “no can do dude (yes, I’m current with social media lingo), have signed up for a Hyderabad to Jalpaiguri cyclothon. Need to catch some sleep. We start at 0530 hrs tomorrow. Befuddled, I ask him succinctly, “Why?” His response perplexes me even more. “Buddy, 50s are the new 30s?” Great. Try explaining that to my back/knees/bladder –because they, do not honour commitments made under peer pressure.

Don’t get me wrong. I agree exercise is good for your health. But then so is regular bowel movements, and no one goes about posting pictures of bowels being moved. Maybe I’ll change my outlook if I ever see a runner who is smiling beatifically while running. To me, all runners seem to have that painfully constipated look signifying problems aplenty; most of them being I presume, related to screaming muscles, bursting lungs and trying not to think about samosas.

And who the hell wants to go back to the 30s? When I look back to my thirties our first kid was born in 1995, the second in 2000. Now I am sure there will be many people who wistfully look back to the days when their kids were not yet teens. I am not one of them. Give me a sulking teen any day over a stark naked snot faced brat arguing with me on why he should drink milk. My thirties were mainly about changing smelly nappies (first kid), seeking school admissions, changing nappies again (second kid), humiliating PTA meetings, seeking school admissions again, running noses and hospital trips, buying school uniforms and helping (euphemism for doing) the kid with his (quaintly termed) ‘projects’. The only excitement in my life was the mad rush to get the kids ready for school every morning. So much for the ‘joys’ of parenthood.

My thirties were also about frequent transfers  and hence the vaguely termed naval ‘outgoing routine’ was also frequent – taking a TC from the kid’s school, returning the gas connection, surrendering the black thingy called a telephone and cable (no mobiles then. I got my first mobile only in the second half of my thirties), surrendering the house, haggling with the transporters and fighting with The Wife (mainly about how many of the broken toys that were last used two years ago should be packed – I would say nil, but The Wife would say 74. Guess how many got packed? 150). Arrival at the new station would entail a reverse ‘incoming routine’; school admissions, fighting with The Wife over unpacking the 150 broken toys, getting a telephone, gas; you get it.

Thirties was also that awkward period when your financial assets never match your desires. A period when random uncles want to know what about your future plans, because inexplicably, you are too old to just be. They want you to become responsible; which in India means get married. If married, have a kid. I had two. It is that period when you had thought you would be thriving in a successful career, driving a great car, and enjoying endless parties. What I was actually doing was using empty wooden crates as furniture, utilising the already flattened toothpaste tube for another few days and switching off lights after my children in every room.  

A wise man had once said that whatever goes up, has to come down. Obviously he wasn’t talking about age. So let me be where I am. I am 57 going on 67 and am happy about it.

We Are Like That Only

Comments (71)

  1. Awesome buddy. So well written. And I can totally identify with each word. Keep it up. Pun intended because you missed out viagra and tinder also contributing to making the 50s into 30s.

    1. Aah yes! Missed Viagra and tinder. Maybe in another post.

      Thanx a lot

      1. Hi, RKD

        Wonderfully narrated the ‘bread and butter’ life in our 30s, as always. Not to mention the family of 3 or four riding the humara Bajaj or Yezdi, with the ‘Ration in Kind’ bulging from all sides.

        Keep on going.

        1. Oh yes, I do remember the awkward sitting pose with the huge ration bag on the scooter between the legs. Thanx Pankaj

      2. Enjoyed reading your post Rakesh. Well narrated events which each one of us can identify with. Thanks

        1. Thank you very much Sir. Yes, we’ve all been through these experiences

  3. Financial assets never matched desire, ….so true ( brilliant ) ., as among the other instances in the read . Your words painted a lighter note of the life we lived, evoking sensations ,and almost all are lives were aligned in the same manner in the forces. No ? I Enjoyed the read. Ghamsamida.

    1. Thanx a lot Sonia. Pl check out my other articles. You may like them

  5. Flash back of life between 30 – 50 by Rakesh Dahiya. So hilarious enjoyed n imagined almost everything. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
    Thanks oldie. Many more to come. All the best.

  6. Very nicely brought out and flash back memories. You forgot how we used to look forward to friends going on leave in Mumbai and hope that you are the first to get a whiff of it and book it. Shifting in suitcases with family in tow 😂

    1. Oh yes, have done that many times. Will write about it some time.

      Thank you

  7. Very Interesting! Could relate to most of it. Progressing from friend’s house to Transit hostel to B type and finally moving to A type accommodation just before getting transferred out, and to start the same cycle all over again every one and a half years was the way of life! Gradually we mastered the art of packing our boxes in such a way that for each type of accommodation we only needed to open earmarked boxes! Looking back all this looks a fun but those were tough days!!

    1. Thank you Aggie. Yes, very interesting times. But I guess experiencing them once is enough!

  8. Brilliant as always. Leave the humour aside the factual presentation touches a chord. Keep going, buddy.

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  11. Very well recounted typical 30s in the navy. It was really tough, wonder how could we cope up with all those things, multitasking. But yes, better off at this stage. No desire to get back. Enjoyed every stage of life . Thanks for reminding of golden days.

    1. I agree. Those were good times, tough times, interesting times. Enjoyable too. But once is enough!

  12. Not to forget the wooden trunks which sometimes doubled up as diwans and sometimes as beds and of course as the treasure chest for the the 150 toys! .And the naval wife was well trained to start the “urban company” of today- packer, cleaner, fixer, carpenter, deep cleaner- all rolled into one. The 30s of our lives were the days of “maximum life with minimum means” and phir bhi “yeh dil maange more”.

    1. “The 30s of our lives were the days of “maximum life with minimum means” and phir bhi “yeh dil maange more”. No better way to describe our 30s

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