Words can create magic and I want to get lost in them for some part of each day.

May 31, 2010

Thoughts on forty!


My hair has gone sporadically white
And my tongue is sharper than my sight.

I  can tell the real from the fake
And I know when and which rules to break.

I still am a learner of the art of tact.
Of handling diplomatically the uncomfortable facts.

I know that living alone is not easier-
Nor living together breezier.

And yet you must take a stand,
Have courage to drop anchor in the shifting sands.

Shucks! Am I doing a retrospective?
By getting all introspective?

Let us talk of joys that nothing can dim,
My children  and my child-like pleasure in the Gym

Sure, I am not the ideal mom nor leaner or faster
But well away from being a basketcase parent or a lifestyle disaster.

Let’s talk of wrinkles: I call them mere crinkles
And my kids love how they define my eyes when they twinkle.

With them I rejoice
Being Forty is rather nice.

2 comments:

  1. A smooth witty juicy journey to reality...good poem...and yes that's exactly I felt when I touched forty

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks!Yogesh.
    By forties we are well fortified from emotional roller-costers-haina?

    ReplyDelete