The Art of Living Seva / Volunteer project

When I volunteered for the old folks home cleaning seva, I didn’t quite know what I was I was signing up for. This morning, when it was time to actually show up, the activity seemed ironic. We employ helpers and pay them to clean our homes. And yet, in the name of seva or volunteer work, we choose to clean the home of another?

But ‘ek baar jo maine commitment kar lee, toh main apne aap ki bhi nahi sunti…’, (a line from a Bolloywood movie that means once I commit, I don’t back off, no matter what).

Fast forward, Binu, Udaya and I reached the residence of Shanthi, an 85 year old lady who lives alone. Before entering her house, my thoughts were, an old, helpless woman, a house reeking of medicinal odour and maybe, plenty of dirty corners…

But voila, Shanthi was as chirpy as a ten year old. Full of beans, spirited to the core and far from being helpless, her home was inviting to say the least. Through her conversations, we discovered, she had lived the life of a journalist reporter during her youth, having worked for the media. With claims of having met the likes of Micheal Jackson and ABBA, she had plenty of stories to tell. A staunch follower of Satya Sai Baba, the owner of a breezy  and well lit home and the a socially active senior, her childlike curiosity and love for life seemed to rub off against me. 

I was curious about her days at present, devoid of any media attention. Especially after the loss of loved ones like her spouse, mother and sister. To which, pat came the reply, “oh I have plenty to do. I start my laptop and watch some Tamil movie. In some time, I forget what I started doing, take toilet breaks and get back to it. That’s an easy three hours”. 

A social butterfly, Shanthi knows all her neighbours from different races and religions, all of who have resided in the same building for the past 46 years. 

As we kept helping to tidy up her abode, the conversations never once came to a halt. While I kept bringing her back to her hay days that may have been filled with writing, editing and analog videography, Udaya made conversations about god and a part of India where they both happened to belong in some way. Binu kept checking in on her health, both mental and physical and kept encouraging her to keep going in order to stay healthy and fit.

In many ways, Shanthi seemed like the perfect example of living in the present moment – happy, healthy and still valuing each day as it came. Her cheerful smile was proof of a life well lived.

Back to the cleaning, we swept, we mopped and we cleaned the kitchen. Initially, I did have to face my mental blocks. There was resistance. There were questions. But then, the many extra, unused bottles on her kitchen shelf rang a bell! They were hollow and empty. A smile flashed across my face. Having met Swamiji just yesterday, knowledge kept showing up in every bizarre action. And before I could resist any further, I heard Binu sing while cleaning the bathroom. A perfect reminder of enjoying what one does. And I cannot refer to the exact moment, but at some point, my botherations dropped off too. No, I did not start singing. But there was no resistance nor questions after that. Did I do my best? Absolutely not. But I guess, every drop makes the ocean. And while I cleaned the kitchen cabinets and they did not end up looking sparkling, a thought crossed my mind – “These are layers of dust. Just like past baggage. Keep repeating AMC and some day, the dust will be gone and the shelves shall sparkle!”

Before we knew, it was time to head back. The house looked cleaner than we found it. Shanthi continued her conversation, gave us a little tour of her altar with mandarin oranges for prasad and a quick sharing about her ancestral jewellery.

P.S. Right before we left, Shanthi asked me the question every woman dreads, “How old are you?”

I was put on a spot. But I chose to be honest. Ahem ahem, I am not declaring my age here. To my most pleasant surprise, she retorted back, “but you look so young! I thought you were in your twenties!”

You can only imagine the monalisa smile on my face and how Shanthi is now my favourite aunty and how I have started to see merit in cleaning old people’s homes, no matter how high the intellectual irony. As I sat on the train on my way back home and started to pen this down, I felt light, almost like I lost all baggage from the past twenty years. I feel Forever 21! Shall we say, Jgd?