International Day for Older Persons: Love for the silver aged

ALL THAT ATTENTION

*Natalie D’Costa, 64, met her second husband *R Srinivas, 66,   when she found herself suddenly flooded with attention from all kinds of men – single, unmarried and even married with kids – immediately after she started living separately from her first husband. Srinivas, a divorcee, would invite her to join him and his friends for movies or dinners in a bid to quell her post-separation blues. In time, she began seeing him as a “really nice guy” with whom she “had shared interests” and “could talk to about anything under the sun”.

One day, he asked her to dine with him alone. Natalie got the jitters and told him, “if you’re looking to get married, I’m not interested”. Allaying her concerns he replied cheekily, “Who wants to marry? You are single and I am single. It doesn’t matter whether we’re dating or not.” Soon, they started dating. When her divorce came through, she and Srinivas began holidaying frequently, opened a bank account and bought a flat in Goa, jointly. While Natalie was adamant not to remarry, several reasons – many pandering to the legal eagle than the heart – prompted a 360° turn: from being eligible to sign on the consent form in case of emergency surgeries to complications in ownership of their house when one prcedes the other in death. After slight prodding from a lawyer friend and her daughter, last year the two married after dating for 14 years. “I signed a paper to divorce and now I had to sign another paper to marry again. It’s just a paper in the end.”

Srinivas, she says, is very calm, extremely intelligent, a great friend, gives her a lot of space and supports the non-profit causes she works for. “I feel I’m heard and respected for my opinion, things I missed in my previous relationship.” However, she’s quick to add that her ex-husband isn’t a bad man. “Just that he was controlling. Also, when I married at 21, I didn’t know what I wanted from life or who I was. My ex huband and I are now friends. In fact, we drove together to sign the divorce papers,” says Natalie.

While young couples, she feels, have to make a life, raise children and struggle with money, none of these persist in a late marriage. “Srinivas and I don’t sweat the small stuff and hardly argue. Instead, we push each other to go to gym.”  

Natalie, a psychologist and leadership coach, still lives in the 300sqft flat she’d bought to meet her clients during her first marriage as “we don’t have to be on each other’s case 24/7”.

“I’m not giving up the space I enjoy after living in it alone for 15 years,” says Natalie.

NORTH MEETS SOUTH

“I’m a loud Punjabi and he’s a quiet Tamilian. I’m very open, gregarious, talkative and he’s serious, articulate and proper. I’ve now become a bit serious because between the two of us how much more drama can I create?” giggles 53-year-old *Bhumika Singh over the phone from Bengaluru. Bhumika was always ambitious and focused on her career in HR. Surrounded by tons of friends and a big family, she satiated all her maternal instincts by being a doting aunt to her brother’s kids. It was only at 42, after relocating to Bengaluru from Delhi for work, and away from her close ones that loneliness crept in and woke her up to her singledom. This set her on the journey to find a companion. Unfortunately, she only met frogs. “I dated one man for three months till his wife called me.” Then she met *Vijay Subramaniyam at a corporate meeting about five years ago. “Vijay was very clear that he wanted to date me, but I was reluctant because of my past experience with men!” recounts Bhumika.

Much to her surprise, Vijay fuelled his efforts to unbashedly wooed her. He ensured they lunched together everyday, sent pastries for her entire staff on her birthday, an occasional chocolate cake for her niece and nephew, and a large apple pie for her mother on learning it was her favourite. The maiden finally was charmed and agreed to date him.

After two months, when Vijay proposed marriage. she instead chose to live-in with him. However, it didn’t take long for her to really like him. “I always wanted to look up to the man I was in love with, which I could do with him.”

In 2014, they tied the knot in a small temple and had a reception for 150 loved ones. She was 50, and he 65. The 15-year-difference even today, she says, nowhere feels like an abyss as their relationship is friendly, playful and occasionally, mature.

At times, Bhumika misses the things she’d do as a singleton, like happily meandering in a mall without purpose. “With him, we only head to the shop I need something from. Men don’t like to change and expect the woman to do so,” she admits. But with the cons come the pros. Together, they’ve combed London, Malaysia, Sikkim, done short trips to Bandipur, Coorg, Kabini, frequent Delhi regularly and have just got back from Goa. Every weekend, they visit places in and around Bengaluru, catch a movie, or shop at the mall. Both are fit as fiddles – his working out at the gym everyday has rubbed off on her. “I used to be overweight. He’d very subtly put it across that he didn’t have an issue with my weight but felt I must work out so that I don’t experience any body aches. I ended up losing 30kg and all my relatives thank him for it.”

One cue that other is angry, is if s/he calls her/him by name instead of cooing ‘sweetheart’ or ‘baby’. However, now Bhumika’s developed a romantic bone. For his 65th, she gave him 65 roses and tons of gifts till he was embarrassed.

“It’s good to have someone in your life,” gushes Bhumika.

DEATH PLAYS CUPID

Ann Dias was proposed to by her second husband even before one year was up for her first husband’s passing. It all happened in a blur. Ann, popular in Dadar for her Christmas confectionaries and tiffin services, had lost Fabio to a long-standing illness in 2015. Florence Noronha, who’d lost his first wife to breast cancer 10 years ago, visited Ann to offer his condolences. They’d known each other vaguely: he had ordered her tiffins before and she had catered for his wife’s funeral.

Florence continued to stay in touch with the grieving widow for a few months. And then he told her his wishes to marry her.

Ann, who was still mourning for her late husband, was shocked by Florence’s proposal. It was after much deliberation, she decided to give him a chance. “I went out with him to see whether he’ll play the fool on meeting other women. But I found him very nice, calm and God-fearing. He doesn’t drink or smoke. Everyone whose opinion I sought in the matter – parish priests, neighbours, common friends – only had good things to say about him,” she says.

Florence had found himself crippled with loneliness only after his daughter married and his mother-in-law, who lived with him, expired two years ago. “Thoughts of good times with my family used to haunt me at night. To stop thinking, I’d call up my friends in Goa, sometimes talking to them till 3am. When I saw Ann, something told me, ‘she’s meant for you’. I found her genuine and sincere,” he recollects.

While Ann’s son and Florence’s daughter instantly supported the idea of remarriage, Ann’s daughter was skeptical about society’s reactions and whether her mother, whom she’d seen tend to her ailing father, was ready to care for a man with stage one Parkinson’s. On seeing her mother happy, she finally relented.

When Florence reiterated his proposal after Fabio’s one-year memorial service, Ann said yes.

This February, Ann, a vision in white sari and Florence, dapper in a formal black suit, exchanged vows in front of 25 family and friends in church. At the altar, both teared up as they recalled their previous walk down the aisle. “But when the priest raised the host and chalice, those thoughts went away,” says Florence.

Both still have their own houses:  hers is a pretty blue-and-white cottage peppered with travel souvenirs and his, a few buildings away, is a 1BHK with a state-of-the-art kitchen. While they are yet to put up their own photos, those of their deceased spouses – whom they fondly remember – still hang on the walls. Post marriage, both admit they feel and look younger. “My doctor says I’ve improved 80% overall and my limp has reduced to 10%. My relatives and late wife’s people are very happy I’ve found Ann. My friends are relieved to see me without any bandaged parts. I’m standing, today, because of Ann.”

The couple have a set routine in place. Ann wakes up at 7am, goes to her home to ready her tiffin orders, and by 2pm packs up enough food for lunch and dinner and heads back to Florence’s. By then he’s finished his computer work or chatting with friends on WhatsApp. “He wants a hug when he wakes up every morning. We pray together and he blesses me before bed and after waking up,” blushes Ann, adding that they call each other ‘lover’, ‘darling’ or ‘baby’. Together, they shop ingredients for Ann’s tiffins at Mahim; have toured Sri Lanka, the Holy Land, Goa and soon, Bali; and on weekends, go to play Housie before lunching at the Mahim, Bandra or Wellington gymkhana. “We keep no secrets from each other. In fact, my daughter confides more in her than me,” says Florence happily.

*Names changed on request.