I miss the great aura and spell that the actors and musicians of the sixties cast on us. We had to find ways to meet secretly! It required courage to say “I love you” rather than paste an emoticon of a beating red coloured heart! I miss my school and college and the way we romanced, which the cell phones, the computers, the iPads, Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp have killed these days. I miss the lovely cricket grounds – the Rangers’ Ground, the Skinners, the RIMC Cricket Ground, those of St Joseph’s Academy, Welham Boys Preparatory School… I also miss playing cricket the way it was played when I was young. I miss Prem Singh, our domestic help, bringing us fresh hot rajma chaawal during the lunch break, peppered with desi ghee made from the cream of the milk of our own buffaloes.
I miss taking a bus ride through the lazy and traffic free roads from home to school or going in our Baby Austin car (MYA 9099!!) for shopping in Paltan Bazaar and Astley Hall. For me, Dehradun is about a lost childhood in the beautiful suburb of Clement Town. I miss the forests that have been denuded. I miss the city with “green fences and grey hair” that one doesn’t see in Dehradun these days. I miss friends who have passed away, but I’m glad that I got to befriend them, at least, in their journey of life. I miss taking on the young “pretender” to my crown – my son – at the squash courts and sometimes not allowing him even a single point! I miss being surrounded by women who thought I was attractive, and I wish I had the eyesight, hearing and memory that I had 10 years ago…
However, there are things I miss about being younger – chiefly the ability to pull off all nighters, trekking to high altitudes, chasing the cricket ball over green turf and throwing it back with such power that it brought out dust from the wicketkeeper’s gloves.
I remember celebrating my 60th in a plush 7 Star Hotel in Dubai! For that matter – not even going past the age of 60! I remember celebrating my 50th birthday in great pomp and visiting our family deity at Naina Devi in Punjab. I don’t remember being aware of going past 50 years of age and being afraid of “being old or ageing”.