I am 83, going on 84

It wasnrsquot Alzheimers It wasnrsquot Parkinsons It was nothing debilitating or death enhancing No sign of cancer no clot in the brain his cardiovascular situation was healthy Even his Kalbadevi building stairs were more rickety than his knees Sure there was the beginning of a cataract in his left eye But glaucoma was par for the course at 84ldquoYoursquore in tiptop shape dikrardquo Dr Banaji his GP reassured him nice to be called lsquodikrarsquo by a 63yearold But he felt himself going down a mental ravine An emotional precipice Like a vintage car whose fabulous exterior hides a frayed interiorHe couldnrsquot explain quite what he was feelingIllustration Amit BandreHis daughter asked annoyingly ldquoDad why are you so listless Come on snap out of it ocupy yourselfrdquo Damn every detail from the 1930s was clear Even the 1940s when the British left The tryst with destiny speech He remembered every single detail from both World Wars Every girlfriend hersquod ever had Even the ones that got away The good old days of black and white were technicolour vividBut he just couldnrsquot recall what hersquod done yesterday He shouted to his parttime maid Mary ldquoDid someone come over last eveningrdquoldquoArre your grandson fom OregonrdquoHis cochlea was sharp enough to pick up her sarcastic barb ldquoForgetful old manrdquo He considered seeing a shrink a psychiatrist anyone to be a sounding board Mumbai still didnrsquot accept mental illness A troubling hamstring was fine but not a troubled mindldquoNonsenserdquo his other daughter snapped ldquoTherersquos nothing wrong with you wersquore all around you okay so maybe you miss Mom but lots of people lose their spousesrdquoItrsquos true Widowers found it tougher to cope than widows but it wasnrsquot loneliness that was his problem The refrain in his head the young just donrsquot seem to comprehend the notsoyoung The approach was to pity them protect them overly parcel them off to an oldage home but to get to the heart of who they were and what they felt was a nonoptionEvery oldie in the building was experiencing the same slideNigel Britto flat 601 triple bypass patient five years older than him pacemaker one foot in the grave but his hands coiled around a violin that sounded like a cat on heatSuhas Talpade on the ground floor penning his memoirs ldquofeel fit as a fiddlerdquo he would say every morning heading out for a walk in his white Tshirt shorts and Carona shoesBut these were men not isolated in a mental asylum but isolated mentally He couldnrsquot decide which was crueller Abandonment or asylumsEvery morning the panic attacks hit him No logic to them Just this dangerous sense of foreboding Not death or the devil beckoning just desolate thoughts dark clouds swirling in his head He felt more and more that he had no place in this new cityldquoWhat do you miss mostrdquo his 90yearold neighbour Naren Jadeja asked him one morningAnd then it hit him ldquoI miss being young I miss being relevant I miss being considered I miss not being pitied Yes I miss my youthrdquoRahul da Cunha is an adman theatre directorplaywright photographer and traveller Reach him at rahuldacunha62 gmailcomThe views expressed in this column are the individualrsquos and donrsquot represent those of the paper