As I move inexorably, relentlessly and perhaps seamlessly into what is termed “old age”, one gnawing worry that I have is “what if while being alive, I lose the power — if not fully, quite substantially — of one of the senses”. This is not a worry that I developed suddenly. It was slowly but surely agitating my mind in varying measures at varying points of time even while I was in active service.
One sense organ I had identified even then as a key suspect was my ears. The fact that I have this tendency to speak loudly was always linked by family and friends as possible problems with hearing.
Consoling comments — “It is okay ... you don’t have to feel bad for speaking loudly”, “It is natural for people who have weak hearing ability” — were not exactly comforting. On the other hand, I have very often been advised by family members to speak softly and stop using cotton buds.
There are some out there who have been clearly identified as sightless or hard of hearing. The world knows about them and so do they about themselves. Problems, I guess, arise when the opposite party thinks that you are endowed with all the senses in excellent condition when you yourself are not very sure of such a presumption. It is much like a car that hides beneath its fresh paint the mechanical defects. I recollect a senior colleague of mine, given to very low decibel levels, sharing some thoughts on something and getting responses which I am sure he would have perceived as most unsuitable. The shadow that crossed his face told me that I better make it clear to him that I had not heard what he said. Getting to repeat things after expending energy to narrate something with enthusiasm is never pleasant or desirable! Having to repeat, therefore, is like a killjoy. I guess my colleague would have mentally ticked me in his mind as someone who should not be spoken to in low decibels.
Making it appear to the other party that one had heard and understood everything, merely in order to be polite or with the intention of saving oneself some embarrassment, is not without its serious pitfalls especially if the matter discussed is of a serious nature. To be found out later would be much like what possibly a sheep feels after being sheared — naked!
In a strange sort of way, one feels a certain sense of solidarity with people who show the same levels of sensory perceptions as one shows. I, for example, feel a little comfortable when the other party has the same levels of diminished hearing that I have — based essentially I think on mutual understanding. Pretences are out and realities are in!
I have watched and heard people narrating their experiences of using hearing aids and the like and how many of them actually gave up on these. Newer technologies, I am sure, would come up and present themselves as bringing succour and hope to conditions such as hearing loss. I know for a fact that I have not developed any serious hearing issues as yet but you never know for ailments are not unknown to outstrip technologies and one needs to be alert and alive to both.
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