It isn’t very often I spend time to think, should I write what is bothering me or not? usually I write exactly what I feel in my heart. But I am also one who believe in live and let live and I did spend some time thinking before I typed this post.
I have written about my mother’s fear of growing old. A single facial hair was sufficient for my mother to make an appointment with a dermatologist. Her dermatologist was handpicked, He was working for the royal family in a certain country! ( in other words no ordinary dookkiley dermatologist for my mother!)
Yet,She wore ‘ugly’ bata slippers and cream colour blouse with all her sarees. It wasn’t that we were poor that Amma could only afford to buy Bata slippers, it was that, Amma never understood the concept of dressing up properly. So long as there was no grey hair, all was well in Amma’s world.
My first Anaphylactic case was a 46 year old woman who developed severe reactions ( near fatal) to the hair dye she used. I was working under a very handsome, well dressed Parsi dermatologist with gorgeous hazel eyes to boot. (obviously I never missed a single rounds).
Digressing a bit here, how can I write gorgeous hazel eyes and not elaborate any further? Imagine this, Black pupil, surrounded by a tiny light brown ring with a tinge of green, blue and brown in the periphery. I loved to see the change in the eye colour with each different colour shirt he wore! ( I did spend many hours looking at those beautiful eyes!)
What I remember the most about that day was, after we stabilized the patient and as we were leaving the ICU, my handsome consultant mumbled to no one in particular ” When will women learn to grow old gracefully?”
Those words made a huge impact on me. First of all I was living with a woman who feared growing old and I just had a patient who almost paid with her own life for getting rid of some grey hair! ( and not to forget her hospital bills after few days in the ICU, all for wanting to look younger!)
I wanted to grow old gracefully. I still do.
Before I cast the proverbial rock, let me mention here that I wear shorts, short skirts, and figure hugging jeans. I am 41 years old, I weigh 52 kg. Although Andie Macdowell’s advised older women to ditch short skirt ( Here) I don’t foresee myself not wearing short skirts for a very long time! I hate trousers and at work the choice is skirt or trousers. So short skirts it is!
So that brings to my issue of the day. I keep seeing this lady..She is in her mid 40’s,She is 5 feet 2 and weighs well over 95kg. She wears “really” tight capris..and I wish I could say we live in a free country and everyone has a right to wear what they like..Yet, I feel so uncomfortable seeing her.