I always assumed I would somehow remain young. It is the folly of youth that makes one delusional, but I did not know this then. With time, I began to realise that growing old was fait accompli for everybody that was ever born, unless you were Cher, and since I wasn’t her, I too would one day yield to the systematic onslaughts of aging.
Gayatri Devi, where are you?
At first the prospect of being an old lady did not seem terribly daunting to me, perhaps because of how distant it seemed. In my mind, old age was grace and beauty and calm sunsets (think Maharani Gayatri Devi, think Waheeda Rehman). And given that the only thing worse than being old was dying, and death was always a very likely possibility for the elderly, it all seemed like a decent deal as long as one wasn’t infirm.