The Last Page: My Autobiography

An autobiography. One of those things which again is available as a right, to only the famous and very well known. In part, rightly so, because people only want to read about the successful and very famous, to know how they scaled the peaks of achievements and what struggles they faced and overcame. That inspires people to overcome their obstacles and try to be successful. But, it would be very wrong to think that only the stories of the very famous or monetarily successful people are an inspiration. If that was the case, our dads wouldn't have been our superheroes and our moms wouldn't have been our gods. Their stories are no less inspirational. For the one writing his autobiography, I wonder what an amazing experience it would be to rewind the tape of his life and take out excerpts from it to put it out for others. Even the average should be able to have that experience. And just for the sake of writing an autobiography, I wish to be a very famous personality. For now, the minor rebel streak in me, who hates too much of norms, decided to take this on, in my own way. And yes, hardly anyone would read it, but it would definitely satisfy something inside of me. But then, thinking on those lines, I unknowingly embarked on a different line of thought. Who knows how I will end up and whether I would be entitled to write an autobiography or not? If someone becomes successful later on, it would be easier to give tips to others or showcase your past failures openly but it to do it before you are successful, is not something people do or would find it easy to do. I thought, if today, I was given to chance to write one, I began thinking what it would be like. Eventually, finding my way through the maze of these thoughts, I began to wonder that, given my current situation what would I want my autobiography to look like. What would be the last page of my autobiography. Thus, I decided to write not the full, but just the last page. May be few decades later I would look back and wonder how I had thought it to be and how it turned out to be. So here it goes.
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After a good, half an hour or forty five minutes of evening walk we both take our seats on a bench by the lake. It would be sunset in just a while. We just sit down to catch our breaths and give a little rest to our bones and muscles which are now doing overtime at 80 odd years. As soon as we catch a little bit of our breath back, she tees off into a conversation. She, still the talker and me, still the listener and thinker. I just wonder how dull it would have been without her, who could make up a conversation on almost anything, an area in which I struggled woefully. All these years she had filled up the silence around me with her chirpiness. And even today I was just happy and fascinated to listen to her and chime in once in a while. As I look at her now wrinkly face, but with still the same bright eyes with full of expressions, I wonder how much I still loved her. She still was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and definitely the most beautiful wrinkly 80 year old. But the countless wrinkles on both of us were symbolic of the amount of time we had spent together, starting from the very first wrinkle that innocently made its presence felt on our face years back, till the latest one. Each of those signified the long years we had left behind together. The years of struggle, some successes studded with lots of minor failures and lot other frustrations along the way. Over the years, I could now, just look at her expressive eyes and get to know what she intended to say.
After a while, listening to her, a thought just made its way across my ageing mind and I ask her "Have we been successful? What do you think?"
She looks at me, smiles, more brightly with her eyes than her lips now, and says "What happened? All of a sudden an old soul, philosophical question?"
"I was always an old soul. Never felt that I belonged in this world till you came around. Anyways, what are your precious thoughts on the question?"
"See, money wise, we have been ok. We always had more than enough to take care of everything plus some indulgences every now and then. As for other things, let me say this, we provided well for the kids and ourselves, saw a bit of the world, you set up a successful enterprise, I did ok in my career and after a point, we had the resources when we needed them. Most of all, I am still with you, so yes you and we have been successful" she said with her characteristic, wry sense of humor and again talking more through the eyes than the lips, which made me fall for her over and over again even now as I did when young.
"By that last parameter, definitely. But you are right. I think we did ok."
The sun was setting now and as the red rays of evening sunlight fell sieving through the light mist and draping everything in its red hue, I again took a look at her. Despite the vagaries of ageing life, her face was still resplendent with a kind of life in them that it made everything worth it. The single most biggest reason of us getting through around this maze of life was her being with me all through it.
"Let's head back. We will take another 20 minutes to reach and it is about sunset."
I get up and lend my hand to her for support to get up, while I hold my classical old man's stick in the other hand to support myself. That is what it is now. Both, inadequate on our own, needing support from each other for everything. She smiles and gives me her hand, and gets up. Not that she could not get up on her own, especially being as fiercely independent as ever, nor I was strong enough now to give her support all by myself, but, the coming to terms of the fact that I liked to do so and she liked that I felt nice.
She gets up. And so, inch by inch, still holding hands, as if we were teens in love, but for reasons totally different now, we move gingerly, and in the fading light we fade away in the dark moving towards a place which we had made our home for so many years. The only thought being, it was a worthwhile journey of a lifetime and we did well. Together. And most importantly, we were at peace.