Act of repetition

“Once upon a time,” these four little words have the power to immediately transfer you from one world to another. During my childhood, there was never a day that went by without my hearing a story from
one of my family members. When my siblings joined me during the summer vacation, the joy simply multiplied.

My grandmother had the endurance of a marathon runner in storytelling; she could tell stories for over three hours, and still hold our interest. She maintained eye contact with her audience, made it interactive. Her intonation, pauses, excitement in the voice made sure that we were able to visualise the characters that she was talking about. The duration of stories would generally be around 45 minutes a day over a period of fifty days. My grandmother used to tell us the same stories verbatim year after year and never once we were bored. Repetition never got old.

Later when I grew up, I read classics of Alexander Dumas in English or Ponniyin Selvan in Tamil again and again and each time it was a new experience. ‘Law of diminishing returns’ did not apply. During college days, movies ruled our lives.

My friends and I saw a number of movies like My fair lady, Sound of Music, Guess who is coming to Dinner many times. Among the Tamil movies, I saw Veera pandiya Kattabomman five times. Even today I can recite Kattabomman’s dialogue with Jackson Durai. ‘Repetition was a joy and never a boredom’.

I enjoy Carnatic music and over the years I have been listening to the wonderful songs of MS Subbalakshmi, Semmangudi, Santhanam, Lalgudi and many others. I can hear the same recitation hundreds of times and ‘each time it is a feast for my ears, with no satiation’.

But today, as a 75-year-old, ‘repetition’ has an ominous sound. It may be seen as a sign of approaching dementia! Older people tend to repeat themselves due to stress, anxiety, frustration, or fear. I am constantly ticked off politely by my children (and as a warning by my wife) when I repeat something. Sometimes I apparently make an observation in English followed by the same in Tamil!

I live in an apartment complex, where a group of senior citizens meets every evening and we talk about food, restaurants, politics, sports and nostalgia. We take special care to avoid repetition in our discussions. Of course, when we talk about old ‘Bangalore’, there is no way we seem to be able to avoid repetition. We take special pleasure in our assertions.

We say proudly “Those were the days my friend when ‘South End’ was the real southern end of Bengaluru and water to the entire city was supplied by just two lakes — Thippagondanahalli and Hesaraghatta”. Unfortunately, we speak about the same things even when we meet the younger lot. And then I wonder, why nowadays they smile politely from a distance and quickly make their escape!