It was a humid day, sitting on my couch I was waiting for time to kill. A sudden knock, I knew, this was new. I could snooze it for later but her innocent complain bound me to think.
Do we ever age?
I hold the thought when she started complaining to the society manager, her youth was snatched by 80 springs. She could barely walk, always trying to catch her gravity as a parkinson patient. I hardly think, she might have ever noticed me. so do I. when I return back from my gym, I see her strolling in the compound. That day, she was arguing over a petty issue, somebody had parked his vehicle near the parapet of her house, which anyway was parking place allotted by society. She was complaining that it obstructs her way and vision. Duh!!! she hardly comes out of house once a day, she can barely see but ground. Yet she still wants to feel the same as in her youth. The guy humbly said to her, okay i’l look into the matter. Is that the real matter? I thought nah>>
Do we ever age?

Habit of complaining: Even in my 30s I keep complaining about my life and issues. seems we all live in a self pity mode. and these complains never leave us, be it a knee pain or a parking problem. our complains never age with us. I still fight for parking space and so does she. what’s the difference.
May be physically, mentally we go stubborn and strong.
Aging is just a number.Its the number of candles we put on our birthday cake.

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