I remember, when I used to walk miles. Knew people all over the town. And we spent evenings, chit chatting about our daily routine, and family affairs. Everybody knew every body back then. We lived in our own nests of love, yet, mistake us not, we just ensured we helped each other in times of need and considered everybody with care, love and respect…

Yup, I sound old… Don’t I? You are right on that count – an 88 year old, who looks to live his final days in peace.

My thought of the todays and the tomorrows? I raise my hands in surrender for, today’s world is unfathomable, and I have long given up on the newbies claim on technology. The things called computers, internet and phones, are just not meant for an ancient relic such as myself.

Yeah, I know that you are aware of creatures like me, that lurk in some corner of your house, watching TV, helplessly stuck on a channel they don’t know to change, on a remote they had no idea even existed, or maybe would be grumpily reading newspapers wondering at what the world had come to. At times, when I’m not grumpily reading the newspaper, yup, I am quirky and witty too… 🙂

I am not here to show my prowess by claiming that I did this write on my own. Let me disown some credit, and pass it to my grand daughter, Tassiya, who helped me navigate this write into a read.

Now that you are introduced to the grandpa, me, let me share my story.

I was happily living in this world, where the number of people I knew, diminished as the years marched on. I had put in close to 3 decades now, in my current residence, hence the people around knew me and my ways. And that honestly made me, comfortable in my den. The shops near me, knew of my ways of being, and supported me through door delivery too, if required.

One fateful day, I got a call, which I had been secretly dreading for over a year. My dearest loving Tassiya, was graduating and she wanted me by her side. Navigating the country was always easy, once upon a time. You just had to hop on a train. And, it was fine, but the issue today, was that, at my age, it felt like a high jump in Olympics. The next option available for me, was flight. The tech side was the scary part. I was a pen and paper guy.

End result? My daughter and grand daughter convinced me to be stupid.

So, I walked into the airport, and the security would not just let me through. I had to dig up my antique ids.

Out of curiosity, I asked him about the need for this Id check, and his reply in all honesty made me indignant. The reason he asked for my id was, to see if I impersonated anyone. I mean, what could I get by impersonating another oldie at my age. People and their paranoia… Phew…

Then I was cordially made to wait, in a queue, where there was a very warm lady, who used her practised artificial smile, while explaining when the flight would take off, and where I needed to be. The contradiction was, I had to actually ask her help for a wheelchair. Do note the point here, artificial smile, and to add oil to fire, help had to be sought.

I got into the wheelchair, and turned to see the helper looking at me lecherously for “tips”. The airport authorities had assigned a helper to help me get to the plane. And now, I was under pressure to give him something ! What if he thought bad of me? Immediately I corrected myself, so what? Why do I need his certificate to prove whether I’m good or not.

I hail from India, and we have been taught to serve the older generation with love and respect. So he needed to respect me and serve me, for my wisdom and insights, not me being scared of him. Uh huh. Note the second point, lack of respect and extortion and, I was a job to them.

A van had very strenously crawled its way to the flight from the airport…

And then the bomb rocked my boat. There was no ramp… Mind you, they conveniently and very artificially smiled, yet again, while requesting me to get my divine self into the flight to my own seat. I managed to clobber my way up the stairs and into flight. Guess what? It did feel miraculous when I got there… I reminded myself, that I was going to see Tassiya and my second daughter who lived with her ever busy husband, and I became calm.

Once inside, I had to compete for the world’s heavy weight championship, by lifting my 6 kg hand baggage into the baggage bin. From nowhere, a kid jumped and helped me stack it. Point number three to be noted, lack of help.

I was grateful but naturally got slightly suspicious too. In an era, where youngsters looked at me as a gullible old guy, who could fall for the tall stories, and swindle me in the process of course, what was this guy’s intention?

He spoke to me pleasantly, though his eyes strayed at my bulging my purse. So yup, you can’t blame me. I anyways thanked him. And oh, by the way, my purse was bulging because I didn’t trust the ATMs. I believed in cash.

The flight ended. I was trying to pull the bag out, while the rest of the co-passengers waited “patiently” for me to pull it out, all by myself. This lad, jumped in and helped me pull the baggage out. I looked in wonder at my co-passengers who stared right back at me, looking bored in life. It just didn’t strike them to help me out at all ! I realized like a thundering bolt, that this wasn’t a character anymore. It wasn’t that these people were bad, it was just that, they didn’t know ! Where had Empathy slunk herself to? How had Care killed himself? When did help, go and suicide?

Looking down the stairs from the flight, reminded me of my younger version when I used to trek up the huge cliffs, just to do diving. Now, the stairs represented the same adrenaline rush. Just that, now I didn’t tremble with excitement, rather it was fear. The cute baby faced steward and the vivacious air hostess, prodded me on with encouraging words. I felt alone in this world of humans. The co-passengers shifted restlessly behind me. This wasn’t a world I knew, or belonged to anymore. Everyone was for themselves. I was in a dilemma. With the bag in one hand, a walking stick in the other, and a body that was already bent forward and stopped from falling due to the walking stick, the prospects of climbing down the stairs wasn’t a very appealing idea. I thought of applying for staying on rent inside the plane for a moment.

The kid appeared beside me, yet again, and wordlessly took my bag in one hand and my hand in his other hand. The gentleness with which he held my hand, but the firmness he offered, for me to hold on, helped me derive the confidence I needed.

I crossed the final stair and felt the world erupt in jubilation within me. As I kept walking to the arrival in the airport, the clapping grew to a thunderous applause in my ear. I felt like a victorious gladiator in an arena. I turned to thank the kid, and realized that I was left with the stick, and the bag, while that boy had just disappeared. I patted my purse, check, my bag I lifted and it still had the same weight, so check. So what did he want?

And my eyes grew wide as I realized. The characters that were missing, that I kept admonishing this generation about – Care, Help, love, empathy was what I just experienced. And I had viewed it with suspicion, paranoia and distrust. I realized how much I had also become a part of this world. That boy’s characters, once belonged to the world I came from… The Lost World… Today I was lucky to have encountered it in my life after so many years, and I regret not savoring those moments, and not recognizing the truth. It was good to know that it still existed… though in finger counting numbers… hope it doesn’t disappear and hopefully again, they become a part of our lives.

As I reminisce about that boy and those moments, all that comes to my mind is –

God bless you child. God bless you.

Would be a great encouragement, if you could like, share & follow.

And please do share your thoughts to anincognizantwriter@gmail.com