1938–2020: What's New?

            

They say change is a universal constant. All while being inevitable and ironic, it is what we need. Believe it or not, change is not on anybody's to-do list; all the uncertainty, the unreliability, the what-ifs. For most of us, change is new and even though it is absolutely necessary we go through with it, we're always given an option, right? We live in a world brimming with difficulties every day and yet the change that tip-toes our choices oscillates between options that are either comfortable or less comfortable. 

I believe that our choices create new experiences for us, they enable us to understand just how brutal the real world can be but also, how well we are able to overcome the hiccups that make us stronger, and more independent. 

*Cues Run The World by Beyoncé*

But for many, change, be it with time and momentum, isn't really a choice. It's.... a compulsion. They don't like change, but they haven't really had the chance to openly admit it. Over the years, they have adopted a come what may philosophy that helps them cope with the regular interference of this uninvited guest we are almost always in denial of. Some times I have wondered whether the phrase 'change is a universal constant' is a moral we've stolen from the stories of these adventurers. 

One of them is my grandmother. She is eighty-two years old. 

She was born in pre-Independent India, lived with her parents for only the first seventeen years of her life before she was married off into a family that I am proudly a part of. She spent almost 70 years taking care of her husband, her family and her children. She still does. She spent most of her youth making memories within the four walls of her new home and created a place in the hearts of whom she met. She spent her adulthood investing in her family, children and love. Some times, when she found the little things that made her happy, she distributed it evenly among her four children, her husband and kept a little to herself as savings. All in all, her life has always followed a linear pattern. But the happening of which has always confronted her with internal changes. 

My father once told me how beautiful it might have been for my grandmother to have witnessed decades of transformation in her lifetime. It must have been. But then it got me thinking, how did she manage to adjust to such changes? From living in an oppressed country to watching her grandchildren voice their opinions without being held back, from literally laughing out loud, to watching teenagers smirk at a digital screen, from collecting annas to watch a movie once a year, to accessing Most Watched on Netflix, from walking for hours in the scorching heat of Mumbai to sitting in a car fuelled by technological advancements, from watching the black and white contrast on a television screen to witnessing the magic of Photoshop, from studying on black slates to watching children use Zoom like an Indian's guide to garam masala. 

I don't think I truly understand what change is because I was never made to go through with it unless I was fully ready, emotionally, physically, mentally, name it. My grandmother never had this option. She did things because they were expected of her. I like to think that her experiences gave me the choice, that wasn't even an option for her at the time. 

If there is anything that you can get from this terribly structured piece is that how you perceive change will change your experiences and what you get out of it. If my grandmother has lived through the 90s' neon clutter, my emo phase, painful rock music, and the deteriorating food choices, I'm sure you will too.