For some time now my grandfather's usual animated self is laced with a brooding aura that is quite alien to his personality. It got me a trifle worried when I first started noticing the brief spells of despondency he used to lapse into. A great deal of coaxing and oodles of attentive ministrations later did the wherefore unfold.
A few months earlier glaucoma had impaired the vision in his one eye by 25% causing irreparable damage. Thankfully early detection put a freeze on the deterioration only to know in the follow-ups that the sight in the other eye was ebbing away to an age-related disorder known as Macular Degeneration. And though he was assured that the recommended three rounds of needle shots would restore his eyesight, the effects speak otherwise. For a nonagenarian who has led a freewheeling and an unaided life all along, the drawing near of obfuscated days does cast a shadow of mild sorrow no matter how happy-go-lucky his disposition might be. With each passing day his vision grows more and more nebulous, he has trouble reading his beloved newspaper and he struggles to trace more than outlines of the faces of his audience. And all this while his spirits sing the blues. Holding him in conversations, encouraging him to narrate anecdotes or general pampering does make him forget his woes but when left to his own thoughts the shadow returns to dampen his child-like spirits.
As I sat there wondering what would make a fine fettle mind as his find well defined solid perception in all the haze, a little attention to things said and also left unsaid made me realize I was at fault in my outlook. I was looking for a way to please a perfectionist, to come to the aid of an independent grandfather with eons of experience and torrents of worldly wisdom. In my awe I failed to see him as the child that he has become. Old age makes one more childish than childhood itself. I have two excellent examples in my very home to support this theory. It is easier to overlook their child-like needs and turn a deaf ear to their fascinations and their obstinacy due to the absence of tantrums. But an ear to their mild persistence and one can see just how vulnerable they have grown to be. And pacifying and humoring them requires much more tact and patience than managing kids. My grandfather had been dropping subtle hints about his penchant for cell phones and his aspiration to have one that can be called his very own. Coming from a guy who is extremely inquisitive and over zealous about knowing how everything under the sun works (I am literally trying to coach him about the internet and surfing and the like; today's lesson was on WhatsApp :D ), his references were brushed aside as his thirst for knowledge. But a little of reading between the lines convinced me that it was more than just that.
So my sister and I gifted him with a cell phone and we have never been more pleased with ourselves. He has been smiling away to glory like a cheshire cat with not a hint of sorrow in those clouded eyes. Infact the fogginess has disappeared, unveiling a sparkle. The phone is a sign of his keeping pace with a fast altering, easy-to-feel-left-behind world, its a sign of his independence and also a toy to keep him and his thoughts occupied, giving them a cheerful ring...tringgg!
P.S.: This selfie is his artwork and the expression that accompanies the click has the likeness of a child coming face-to-face with Santa! :)
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