Hot grandmas, not just looking younger

Greek mythology, unlike, say, Indian mythology, revels in its HGs. And by HGs, we don’t mean hot gods and goddesses alone but, specifically, hot grandmas. But, of late, things have been also warming up at the foothills of Mount Olympus – mortal territories. Human grandmas are getting hotter. This climate change can be attributed to better lifestyles, better diets, better Zeenats effortlessly having their 60-70-plus game faces on, not to look just ‘graceful’ – or other descriptors that are GLD-worthy (good-looking daadi-worthy) – but out and out attractive.

Umberto Eco had written a wry faux-essay in his 1963 collection, Diario Minimo, translated into English in 1993 as Misreadings, titled ‘Granita’. Flipping Vladimir Nabokov‘s iconic novel on generational asymmetry, Lolita, Eco starts his piece with, ‘Granita. Flower of my adolescence, torment of my nights.’ But Eco’s paean to chronologically-curated beauty is about an aesthetic-hormonal taste for ‘faces furrowed by volcanic wrinkles‘ and ‘proudly gnarled hands’. HGs of the here and now are different – they are head-turners by our usual measures of head-turnability. HGs, however, aren’t simple age-defiers – they carry their oomph within the matrix of age. In fact, theirs is a je ne sais quoi quality that has gorgeous sit pretty – nay, sit bewitching – with the seductive mark of experience.