Old age is inevitable. No one in his right mind would want to grow old if it was in his power to prevent it. Having said that, I should also tell you that growing old is not either tough or nightmarish as you might imagine. It can be fun too. I’ll tell you how. My favourite pastime these days is to keep looking at the mirror for any new wrinkle on the exposed portions of my Adonis-like torso. I know everyone of them so well that any newcomer sticks out like a sore thumb. Whenever I sight a new one, I give it a big shout of welcome and make it feel at home instantly! I keep marvelling at the tenacity of the few strands of hair that have stoutly refused to part ways with a head whence they have drawn their nourishment for sixty odd years. I spend hours trying to cover the big expanse of my head with those few loyal strands of hair and when I accomplish the task, I feel as elated as a Finance Minister of a deficit State who has managed the game without levying any new taxes. Or for that matter as an oversized elephant that has effectively covered itself with a bath towel. The preceding paragraphs should not lead you to think that growing old is nothing but unadulterated fun. Just as trouble comes from nowhere in a fun filled family drama, growing old has its own share of problems. The most serious of them is being addressed as uncle, no not by teenagers, but by ladies who are not far behind me chronologically. Such encounters upset my equilibrium a lot more than the few strands of hair, which sensing the futility of it all, decide to call it a day. Or for that matter the sight of a wrinkle that gets over zealous and manages to reach my eye. Whenever I am thus beckoned by a middle-aged lady, I run the whole gamut of emotions from A to Z. Anger at her audacity to call me so just because she is only one wrinkle less. Frustration at her skill to be able to group herself with the teenagers by calling me so. Sorrow that someone should throw spanners into my otherwise sublime existence. The horrific experience of Dorian Gray is nothing compared to what I feel in such circumstances. That brings us to the question how does one cope with the trauma of old age if he fails to see the fun side of it? Proclaim at every congregation that you are an old man. Someone might say, “oh, don’t tell me! You must be joking! You do not look that old at all!” Refuse to make use of the senior citizen concession extended by the railways and airlines. Stay tuned to World News and look for any news about a 90-year man producing a child in China. Celebrate it with your friends at your club and if it’s a twin with a premium scotch!