Snippets from a Senior Citizen’s
Life
I have a suit length which
was gifted to me in a marriage. For a couple of years I have been thinking of
getting it stitched. At the onset of winter this year, I asked my wife for the
piece so that I could go to the tailor. She hemmed and hawed, and the net
result was that I was deprived of a new suit this winter also.
Then the other day, one of my
friends from another town turned up, and over a drink he told me a funny story. His father-in-law died
sometime back. A few months before his death he had got a few clothes stitched.
Maybe some shirts, trousers, pyjamas. After his death when my friend’s wife saw
those almost new clothes her mother exclaimed, ‘I had told him what was the point
of getting more clothes now when he could pop off any day!’ I got suspicious,
and asked my wife who was nearby whether that was why she did not give me the
piece. Her prompt reply was that I already had too many from before , so much
so that there is hardly any place left in the cupboard to keep another suit. Then
Gwalior has
such short winter. I hope she was being truthful.
I remember one of my
colleagues whose dress sense I had always appreciated. The other day I met him
in the Gymkhana. He was wearing an expensive kosa silk bushshirt. It had seen
better days, and true to the nature of old clothes, the fabric had ad gone
smooth and shiny, losing the typical rough kosa texture.
Should we really stop going
for new clothes when you grow old?
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