Image credit – Album Covers of UB40 and U2; Maya Angelou (Image credit – Wikipedia)

My favourite age-related joke is this: Once there were two friends. When one turned 40, her friend gifted her a CD of the Irish rock band UB40. And when she herself turned 40 she received a CD of U2.

You can’t tease someone with ageism. Age awaits all. So many wise men have reiterated that life begins at 40. I’m in my 40s. I’m at that age where on the one hand, it’s too early to sport a full grey head because there aren’t too visible wrinkles. After all there are things that money can’t buy. One must earn one’s wrinkles. On the other hand, it's just too much of a hassle to dye hair every twenty days.

Anti-ageing is such an oxymoron. Nothing can anti the age. One can only mourn it like Y B Yeats and Sylvia Plath does in “Among School Children” and “Mirror”, respectively or celebrate it as Maya Angelou does in “On Aging”.

When you see me sitting quietly,
Like a sack left on the shelf,
Don’t think I need your chattering.
I’m listening to myself.
Hold! Stop! Don’t pity me!
Hold! Stop your sympathy!
Understanding if you got it,
Otherwise I’ll do without it!
When my bones are stiff and aching,
And my feet won’t climb the stair,
I will only ask one favor:
Don’t bring me no rocking chair
When you see me walking, stumbling,
Don’t study and get it wrong.
‘Cause tired don’t mean lazy
And every goodbye ain’t gone.
I’m the same person I was back then,
A little less hair, a little less chin,
A lot less lungs and much less wind.
But ain’t I lucky I can still breathe in.
 

I read this poem as a poem of personal dignity. All her poems seem to be unapologetic about gender, class, age, ethnicity, etc. Here Maya seems to question, “Why must one apologise about being old?” It is an amazing poem that questions and subverts stereotypes of older people as helpless, lonely and pitiable. With a skilful use of humour, she presents old age as an era of vitality and liberty.

Age doesn’t dampen one’s spirit for life. One must be lucky enough to live to be old, “But ain’t I lucky I can still breathe in”. We are living in a time where the internet is full of instructions on how to appear younger. This poem speaks volumes about growth and mortality in the age of fillers, botox, facelifts and implants.

Experiencing mortality and limitations as you age is one of the wonderful things that make you realise what a wonderful gift life is. “On Aging” by Maya Angelou captures it perfectly.