GOLDEN AGE

Golden Age is when one dotes on one's grand-children and is polite and correct with one's son -in -law. It could be that one plays nanny to one's set of grandchildren too as a very active friend of mine, does in Dhaka --- and she enjoys it too now that the children have left the nest. But before babysitting, each of these individuals had other things to dote or commit themselves to, beyond the normal call of duty. In Karachi, I saw all the girls that I grew up with, since school and college, now retiring, or coming back from wherever their husbands served, working their hearts out for charity. 

Golden Age is when one dotes on one's grand-children and is polite and correct with one's son -in -law. It could be that one plays nanny to one's set of grandchildren too as a very active friend of mine, does in Dhaka --- and she enjoys it too now that the children have left the nest. But before babysitting, each of these individuals had other things to dote or commit themselves to, beyond the normal call of duty. 

In Karachi, I saw all the girls that I grew up with, since school and college, now retiring, or coming back from wherever their husbands served, working their hearts out for charity. This could be for "Behbud" that makes clothes, items of leather, pottery and what have you. I knew of an individual with wonderful light curls making an unforgettable first impression whom I did exam preps with; she went on to give up her old job to dedicate herself to charity. Another old school chum goes from pillar to post, helping people in the slums area, and seeing to the education of the poor, setting up a school on wheels which carry teachers from locality to locality. The Pathans and Baloches, with their blonde hair and sweet, radiant smiles, welcome you, despite their hand–me-down clothes and grubby faces. Back then, you were told to wash your hands and face after visiting the area of the buses and the 'kutchi abadis.'

The tall and fair Pakistani girls, like one Shaheda, married Bangladeshi boys, and gave birth to children looking like Middle-eastern products. These ravishing beauties would learn their first steps by teaching , tutoring and helping to baby-sit the sole servant's daughter who could barely walk and whined more often than not. They stitched their own clothes and cooked their own meals.  

Nowadays too, the women, who have daughters-in-law as working women, keep an eye on the grandchildren and do part time work like sewing fancy clothes and dainty embroidery. Their home economics training help them in making homemade pickles and jam—which are given to favourite nieces—who in turn remember their birthdays and try to make a big bash of it.

I have seen in Melbourne and in the Maldives that the mothers spend time cooking and making frills and loops for dainty party dresses for the debut day or plain courting. Summer and winter, they are at their sewing machines, and pressure cookers, making boneless fish with tomato juice and other dainties like wrap-around pancakes with silver-paper. They make curtains, trim lawns and tend to the roses as if home-making was an art they were born with. They live in the suburb areas and visit the town to window shop for cards, perfumes dresses and beauty-products.

Of course, they have the leisure of playing the piano, watching and being on the lookout for the sales of soup cans or chocolate muffins.

Among girls, I see among printmaking at the Kibria Print Workshop or something of that sort. Other senior girls have displays, workshops, and manage a household of three growing children. Many senior girls do not hesitate to learn and have exhibits. For them, age is of no consequence. It's the standard of work that matters. My own mum, despite her long gray hair, works – cooks, stitches, and has been baking and embroidering- ever since I can recall. Bravo to the Golden 

Girls! 

By Fayza Haq