The average life span across the world is around 72-73 years and around 70 years in India. According to the scriptures people were living for thousands of years in the bygone eras like Treta and Dwapara and a hundred years expectancy is allowed for people in the Kali era. But one reads of early deaths amongst people, and it seems a blessing to reach at least the national average, and nothing short of a miracle to reach the century mark. So it generated a lot of excitement when I got to know that my mother’s maternal aunt, Saraswathiamma, had turned a centenarian and it spurred me to meet the grand old lady.
One of her daughters, Rohini, a friendly soul, promised to take me and my husband to the matriarch’s home when we visited the nearby hill temple, Kunjarugiri, located in the holy land of Udupi, the abode of Lord Krishna. The day dawned and after our visit to the beautiful Durga temple for the holy prasad, aunt Rohini turned a guide towards her maternal home. As we entered the portals, I was filled with happiness on seeing the demure old lady, my grand aunt! It had always been a wonder to me that she had brought forth thirteen children into the world and was none the worse in health and fitness. She has proved this to the hilt by hitting the centenarian mark this year. Doddamma, as I address her, was sitting in the center of the porch upon a mat. It gave me added happiness
that she recognized me instantly as the daughter of her favourite niece, Radhalakshmi, whom she lovingly called Radha. Doddamma was thrilled to have us visiting her and shyly protested when I gifted a sari with some cash to her. Although it was 2 pm, there was no anger that my aunt was late in serving her lunch. She expressed morosely that she has gone back to her infancy, as she crawled towards the kitchen to partake of her meal. I brushed it aside replying that we were worse off than her at our age, with knees buckling at their will as we walked, and the backs refusing to bend when they chose!
Rohini smilingly expressed that Doddamma complained, as if in her forties, that her eyesight had weakened. It was indeed awesome to learn that she performed her daily activities without help. I was amazed to hear that her morning cuppa was only after her bath and hour long prayers. It touched me that she felt quite upset that we declined her offer of kadubu (a form of idli) and we quickly agreed to a cup of coffee. She had an excellent memory and spoke of her long visits to my mother’s place several decades ago.
She flashed her baby smile for the photos and remarked that a few neighbours visited her just because she was a centenarian. I saw her soft side when she empathized with my loss and also recollected her own losses amongst children. The denouement was when she selected one of the best new saris and a dhoti set from her cupboard and presented it to us despite our protests. We left with a warm glow in our hearts with her requests to visit again reverberating in our ears.
