How an incident with an old lady helped me adjust my perception
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This is a true story.
I was once at the bike repair shop, getting my bike serviced.
While I was waiting there, an old lady approached the shop. She easily would have been in her 80's. Stooping forward, she walked slowly with a stick. The remnants of her white hair braided nicely in a tight pony, which barely reached her shoulders.
As she was getting closer, the repairman grunted - "aah, here she is again!".
I was surprised by the gesture of his, but decided to ignore. The repairman advised me to not look at her or even listen to her.
I couldn't let it go this time, and I asked him - "Why do you say that?"
"She lives in the apartment next to the repair shop. And requests people passing-by to help her with things - from buying groceries to help her fix things at her home." He said.
I was still searching for my answer.
The repairman was busy working on my bike (or maybe pretending to, just to avoid the lady!). I was the obvious one to be approached, as I was only fidgeting on my phone.
She came near and asked in a soft tone - "Hello dear, can you help me with something?". The repairman gazed at me, indirectly suggesting me to ignore her. I obviously wasn't going to.
"Sure, please tell me", I responded.
She informed that the light from her bedroom had stopped working, and needed help in getting a new one from the shop. As she could not get on a stool herself, she also needed help in changing it.
"Okay, thats manageable" - I thought to myself. Requesting the repairman to give me a call once the bike was ready, I decided to do this chore for the lady . I Informed her to wait by the shop while I return.
Unfortunately there wasn't a single electrical shop nearby and I had to walk for a while.
I found one after striding, and purchased a tubelight and returned.
The lady was waiting for me. Seeing me approach the bike repair shop, with the tubelight waving in my hand, she started walking towards her home. I followed.
Her house was on the first floor. Being an older building, there wasn't a lift and we had to take the stairs. By the speed with which we were climbing the stairs, the teenager in me was getting impatient.
She unlocked her door, and pushed it open. A strong pungent smell gushed through my nostrils. There was a clear indication of the dampness in the air due to no ventilation. I passed by the kitchen - it was a complete mess. There were plenty of used utensils, lying around the kitchen counter. Houseflies were feasting on the remnants.
The hall was no different. There were different boxes lying on the floor, some closed while some partially opened. Maybe she has just moved in and is still unpacking, I thought. I had, by this time, started to get a little anxious - trying to control all sorts of thoughts flooding my brain.
The lady stopped by the bedroom door, and pointed towards the non-functional light. I pulled a stool from nearby and started changing the light. Maybe she had realised the anxiety by my expressions, and started narrating her story -
"My husband and I have been living here from the past 5 years. I lost him couple of months ago. Now I live here alone. At times it gets difficult to manage the home, to even get minor things done. I have no pension and no kids to assist in any of this."
I had fixed the tubelight by then, and requested her to switch on the button. The room was lit, but the light illuminated the darker side of her life.
I could only do much. I asked her if there was any other help needed. She said I could help her with the boxes lying in the hall. I helped her with organising those, and adjusted the curtains. A beam of light passed through the window, and reflected from the floor onto the ceiling.
My phone rang. It was the repairman calling to inform that my bike was ready. The lady thanked me with a warm smile, and I took her leave.
Afterthoughts
I kept thinking about this incidence, and about her overall wellbeing for the days to come.
I am not sure about her current status, or how she managed further. The incident made me think of all the times I had revolted in my childhood, when my parents had asked for help with the chores at home. My parents still have me and my brother today. The more I thought about the lady and her situation, the grimmer it made me feel.
Maybe I could have checked on her later, maybe helped a little more. There are always multiple possibilities and quite a few maybes. But the only sense of satisfaction was that I could be of her help on that particular day - only a little, but enough to get her through another day. Maybe.
Giving back
With assisting my father in most of the later years of his life (ref here), I learnt early that there are all sorts of help the elderly need from our generation. Not only the physically challenged folks, but literally everyone.
It may be anything from making an online transaction to helping them send a Whatsapp message to their friend. I once helped an ajoba (grandpa in marathi) kickstart his scooter on a cold winter morning. He was so relieved and happy, it just made my day. And it hardly took me 10 seconds to do that.
And after all the comfort we have received right from our childhood, don't you think it is time for us to give something back to the elderly?
Try this
Next time you see an elderly struggling with something, try and assist them if it is within your boundaries of assistance
Document how it made you feel.
We are not be getting any younger by day, and not everyone has assistance in the old-age. Helping someone old may not fetch you an Assistance to Elderly badge like Russel from the movie Up, but it will definitely make you feel little lighter. And who knows, maybe we will find a Russel to help us with our chores when needed, if we happened to live by our old-age.
Meet, Russel -
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