WE often hear about how the older generation is becoming more trendy and fashionable.
The same is true in our community
Last month I attended a hen party. You might think wedding season is over but there's always a backlog at this time of year where those who couldn't book a hall in mid-summer experience the pre- ramadan rush.
Well, it was an Asian version of a hen party which means that there was no alcohol, no Full Monty-style men, and no bawdy dance routines. Or so I thought. After the initial ceremony where the bride-to-be is bestowed with lots of gifts and money, the stage was cleared and music began to play. Ah, I thought, time for the young, fit, slips of girls to come and shake their thang and show us fogeys what we're missing.
But then a clutch of middle-aged ladies stood up. Perhaps they are going to have a lie-down, thought I. Maybe the excitement of loud music and bright lights has already got too much. But no, I was wrong. The music began to play and the ladies began to dance. Initially perturbed, I was pleased that they seemed to have a lovely time and danced with much more energy than the younger ones did.
Later on when we returned home and I was half dead with fatigue, I retired to my boudoir with a mug of Horlicks while my mother stayed up to watch Ally McBeal. (No, our hen parties don't go on that late).
The next day I was not at work but awakened by the sound of my mother doing all the housework. I slunk around the house and was overjoyed at being able to stay awake until about 8pm when I could slip into bed and fall asleep.
Suddenly it dawned on me that I might be slightly inactive and my mother the opposite. Yes! I was acting like a middle-aged frump and my mum was the young one.
And she is not the only one. At any type of function the older women can be seen in the thick of the action, while the younger ones look on with bleary eyes and blank, vacant looks. No amount of make-up - or gossip - can hide our fatigue as we wrestle with a desire to enjoy a social life or simply stay awake.
We blame the fact that we are busy working mums, too busy juggling work and home to bother with frivolities but then our mothers work as well and most of the time we foist our kids on them too.
So what is it? Have we been mollycoddled and been left soft and incapable?
We never had disposables in our day, they say, as they come home from work, clean the house, do the laundry, make the chapaties and then go out for a night on the town.
I have emptied the vitamin counter at Boots trying to find something to make me more energetic, but alas, dear reader, I have failed.
My only hope is that with each passing year I may get more like my mother.
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