passing the torch

I  run two rounds on a village road every morning. The villagers used to stare at me, but they gave up after a few months. There were always three old men sitting on the culvert and drinking tea and gossiping.

After  a few months they started asking me questions.

“Why do you run?”

“Where were you last week? You didn’t come for three days”.

I did not answer. I just waved at them, smiled and ran on. Any way I  decided that there was no point in trying to keep my goings and comings a secret (to prevent theft and break -ins). The whole village was watching my every move!

One day I found three children standing near the culvert, two boys and a girl. They must have been around ten years old.

“Why are you running?” asked the boy.

“I am training,” I said.

“For what ? “ he asked. The other two stood shyly behind him.

“I am training for a half marathon.”

“You run half? How much is that?”

“Twenty one kilometers”, I replied awkwardly, wishing  that I looked more like Usain Bolt and less like a samosa.

“Do you win?”

“Sometimes”, I said, “when they have a category for older people.”

“You don’t mind if you don’t win?”

“I do mind,” I said,” but only for a few days. The important thing is to try harder and train better for the next time.”

They were gone by the time I came around the second time.

Two days later they were back. They were dressed in track pants and canvas shoes. The spokesman stepped forward, “ we want to run too. Please teach us.”

“Well,” I said, “you need to sprint,  not jog marathons.”

“What is that?”

“Run really fast,” I said. “You run slowly like me only when you get really old.”

“How old are you? “He asked.

“Going to be 62 next month” I said.

The charmer smiled and said “You don’t look so old, and you are  pretty---“

My heart was totally won over. He was obviously going places when he grew up!

I spent  fifteen minutes training them in the mornings. They faithfully stretched, did squats ,sprinted  up and down and  stretched again. They were disciplined and dedicated. They kept at it as long as I did, which was  about an hour). I found an old stopwatch and presented I to them.

“This is to help you train ,” I said.

Two months later , when I jogged in the morning, they were lined up by the side of the road. They had a small box of ladoos and each of them had a medal.

“What is this?” I asked.

The spokesman stepped forward.

“We went for the district school athletics. We won!!! We are selected for the training camp.”

They were wearing their medals. Two boys had silver , and, you guessed it, the girl had the gold.

Dr. Gita Mathai

The writer is a paediatrician with a family practice at Vellore.

If you have any questions on health issues please write to

yourhealthgm@yahoo.co.in

  

aging india

My friend lost her husband, and opted to live alone in a rambling house with a large garden.

“I feel unsafe at night,” she told me, I hear noises. I think it is thieves.”

“Don’t you have a watchman?”  I asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “he is even older than I am!”

That explained a great deal. She was already seventy five.

“ I felt so much safer when my husband was alive!”

He was older than her, could not see well or hear and walked unsteadily with a walking stick. I suppose by holding on to the wall he could hit an intruder with the walking stick?

“I think you should get professional security, and a dog. The dog will take a year to grow up so you should get a watchman in the interim.”

She took my advice and approached several professional security agencies. Finally she settled on one run by a very enterprising woman. “I only employ ex-service men. They are very disciplined.”

My friend was happy to deal with her. She related to everything she said and made suitable sympathetic noises.

The first watchman had teeth missing from half his mouth and a terrible squint. Most of the time my friend did not know where he was looking.

I went over to have a look at him. He looked fit and muscular, walked briskly and could hear well. He was prompt too. Arrived on the dot of six and did a twelve hour shift.

My friend said, ”does he look like leering at us?”

“No,” I said confidently, “that is his squint.”

Her son came from Germany, had a look at the arrnagements and decided that she needed security cameras around the house. Twelve of them were fitted and connected to a giant computer screen in one of the bedrooms. She was very happy.

“I don’t even open the balcony door after six pm. I can see everything from inside. “

“What if a visitor comes?”

“ I just pretend that I am not at home. I have told the watchman to say the same thing. I don’t mind visitors in the daytime.”

A couple of days later she woke up because of a noise at eleven pm. She went to the next room and switched on the computer screen. A scary man with a peaked cap on his head had climbed up to the camera and was trying to cut the wire. Another camera showed the watchman snoring gently near the gate. The dog was sleeping at his feet. She called her son in Germany, ”There  is a thief cutting the camera wires.”

“Call the police.” He said.

“They are worse than thieves.” She replied.

“Then call the security agency, “ said the son.

The woman who ran the agency did not pick up. After a few minutes she called me. I took my watchman and the one from the neighbour’s house and went there. When we reached there we saw him leap over the wall and disappear.

The security lady apologized profusely and offered to replace the watchman. My friend decided that a known thief was better than an unknown one and opted to give the watchman another chance..

A few weeks later she heard a noise again. It was like deja vu.

Once bitten twice shy. She crept on the floor without putting on lights till she reached the camera room. She switched on the screen. The leering squint eyed watchman had removed every stitch of clothing from his body. Like the king in the “emperor’s  new clothes, he moved from camera to camera posing and parading. 

My friend crept back into bed.

She called the security agency the next day. (By this time she realized that the CEO did not respond at night!).

“ I need some to come and look at the video recording from my cameras,” she told her,” it seems to be showing television programs.”

The lady protested, “that is not possible.!”

Finally she agreed to sent someone and a young man came over.

“You look at it, “ said my friend,” I will get you some coffee.”

From downstairs she  heard him calling his office. After a lot of shouting on his side, another watchman arrived.

“Madam” he said,” I am vey sorry for what happened. We have found a replacement.”

“I hope this one is not a flasher!”

All this was too much for my friend’s son. He came to India, wound up the house and took his mother back to Germany.

As for me, I am looking for a home for a nine month old Doberman.

having daughters

Three Sisters

“Women,” said my daughter, “who have promiscuous life styles, only have daughters.”

“I don’t think that is strictly true.” I objected. “It is a question of X and Y chromosomes.”

After all having a son or a daughter is a 50% chance either way, a hit or miss situation.

“Look at ----“She named a number of famous movie stars. They had all become “second wives” to their producers. Low and behold, they all had daughters. Not a single one had a son. The first and original wives did have sons though!

“Their X is so strong that if smashes the Y to smithereens.”

I really did not think much about it until I considered my friend Lily. She had rip-roaring affairs with two men in college. Fortunately, they studied in two different colleges, so she managed to juggle her dates fairly well. When it came to marriage though, the mother of one of them called her a slut. Unwilling to forgive this slur, the married the other one. In the stipulated 10 months she produced a daughter.

Old habits die-hard and with in a few months of childbirth she was merrily carrying on with her previous paramour. (Children just complicate matters). Eventually, she ran away baby and all and set up house with the paramour.

The mother- in –law gave up and vowed never to set foot in her house. Lily and her husband were not too bothered. It meant freedom from family, disapproving looks and oppression. They were “living together” awaiting the divorce. This eventually came through and they went on to spend the next thirty years of their lives together. The in-laws never stepped in, though I suspect the husband sneaked off with faithful regularity to see his mother!

Children –You guessed right! They had two, bringing her grand total up to three, all GIRLS.

traveling more

India’s life expectancy has increased thanks to  immunization and accessibility to health care. The evidence of this is all around us. Not only are senior citizens are visible everywhere, they are on the move. They visit children, grandchildren, attend functions and go on religious pilgrimages.

It is a good thing that they are on the move. It keeps them active and involved. The downside is that our country is not geared as yet for unaccompanied elders travelling.

I travel from Hyderabad to Chennai every week and this definitely qualifies to make me  a “frequent flier.”

I was watching an elderly gentleman at the airport. He had a shoulder bag (not a laptop bag)  slung across one shoulder. He kept getting up and sitting down and was quite agitated. Finally he looked at me and said, ”which gate is the Air India Hyderabad flight?”

“Gate 4” I said.

“But,” he peered around “it says Air Costa.”

“They both go  out of the same gate,” I said.

He was not convinced. He went to the gate and badgered the Air Costa girl. Then he went to the Air India counter. The portly gentleman there was not too polite.

Finally both asked him to sit down.

“Keep sitting” I said “I will take you with me when I leave.”

“Where are you going?” he asked anxiously twisting his ticket in his hands.

“Same as you,” I said, “Hyderabad.”

After a while he said, “they are boarding, they are boarding.”

“Not to worry, I will tell you when to get up. There is no need to stand in an endless queue.”

“But, but” he said.

“The flight won’t leave without you. Your luggage is already on the flight.”

My soothing words made him even more anxious. I insisted that we board at the end. By then he was practically climbing the wall.

The Air Costa flight departed first, about 5 minutes before Air India. There was utter chaos. People got into the wrong line and then had to go back to the end of the other line. When they finally did manage to get out of the gate they boarded the wrong bus to take them to the plane. The buses were of different colours and the destination was clearly flashing on a ticker tape. Not that it made a difference. The ground staff of both airlines kept shuttling between the buses pulling people in and out.

An  Air Costa employee stuck his head into the bus, “anyone for Port Blair?” Two men got down. Another four were brought and deposited in our bus.

We finally settled into the flight—but it did not take off.

“There is a medical emergency on board,” said the captain’s dismembered voice from the cockpit. “Is there a doctor on board?”

“Oh Lord!” I thought, what with the Hippocrates oath I took when I graduated,  I have to get up and figure out what is going on!

Fortunately, two enthusiastic youngsters jumped up before I could unfasten my seat belt. They proceeded to the back of the aircraft.

After what seemed like an eternity, the disembodied voice announced, “the passenger wants to disembark. He does not wish to fly.”

Surely he could have figured that out before he bought the ticket, checked in his luggage, waited in security and boarded?

Off loading a passenger seemed to be a complicated process. He was escorted to the door by the purser. The stairs were fitted back on. Two ground staff and a security personal boarded. The captain emerged from the cockpit.

Another announcement, “we are sorry for the delay, but his luggage has to be identified and removed.”

A young man loudly told his companion, ”that is in case he checked in a bomb and has then decided to get off.”

“Bomb,” shouted an elderly woman, “there is a bomb! I want to get off too!”

Needless to say, it was another  hour before that was sorted out.

Once we reached Hyderabad we were told to show our boarding passes as we disembarked. “This flight is proceeding to Ahmedabad, please have your boarding passes handy for inspection.”

Another delay while passengers searched for misplaced boarding passes. They were made to stand on the side of the tarmac while they rifled through their hand baggage. Only   the queue in the plane moved forward! Then the bus to take us to the terminal could not move. There was a discrepancy in the head count of the passengers who had disembarked.

I could have told them what, why and where. One passenger never left Chennai.

My elderly gentleman friend  complained, “ I don’t know why I came by plane. It was only because my daughter insisted. The train is much more efficient.  And” he continued, “at this rate I don’t think there is much time saved by flying!”

I couldn’t agree more.

Dr. Gita Mathai

The writer is a paediatrician with a family practice at Vellore.

yourhealthgm@yahoo.co.in