My silver troops are marching on,
Gallantly in all their glory.
As I feel them in my crown,
Each strand seems like saying,
'Come, sit na,
I’ll tell you my story!'
The lines on my forehead,
The freckles on my cheeks,
That crease around my neck,
As I caress them all softly,
They embrace me in warm hug,
And say,
'Sit for a while,
And gossip with us!'
Did I hear dark circles?
Oh yay!
That’s the 'rangoli' around my eyes!
Did I hear someone say wrinkles?
That's the supreme artist,
Baring his brush,
On the canvas of my life.
With a spring in my step and open arms,
I welcome every symbol and sign,
That celebrates every milestone of my life!
When I look around,
What do I see?
Millennials,
The 'Generation Zee',
The world is raving about you all,
And I wonder,
Who will talk about us midlifers,
Especially, the mothers who gave birth,
To this awesome Gen-Next,
And are now raising them too?
So presenting the story of our lives,
Transcending through our roles,
As mothers, daughters, wives,
But trust me,
There is much much more to us,
Than just that too!
While the world addresses,
Global warming and erratic weathers,
I wonder who will ever talk,
About our fluctuating temperatures.
The upper zones can beat,
The most blazing deserts,
The down-unders are perpetually in sub zeroes.
Challenge is to keep up a pleasant shine,
Uphill task when gravity,
Has started working overtime!
Grey hairs are popping up,
In the strangest of pockets,
Like that thousand rupee note,
Remember?
That kept emerging,
Post demonetization,
Out of deserted wallets.
Did Someone say,
It’s my age to sit back for a while,
And count my blessings,
Or reassess my investments and profits?
C'mon, I do that everyday!
The real estate in my backyard is appreciating,
The chins have doubled,
Like the most promising mutual funds,
My jaw line has vanished,
Like Mallaya and Modi.
Aah!
Nirav I meant!
But I’m a diehard optimist,
Like my fellow countrymen.
I believe they'll all be back.
They'll all be back.
As will be my marginal curves,
And who knows even six pack abs!
At times, I’m stiff and literally so,
As if my bones,
Have been dipped in Revive,
And sun dried too.
Next morning,
I take charge of my body and mind,
And embark upon a century ride.
That’s the way “Fun Between the Legs”,
At my age I define!
My fellow mid-lifers,
Are acing marathons and triathlons.
An orgy of exercises,
I wickedly call them.
Ssh! You know what,
Age or agility?
Forget it!
Raising these millennial kids,
Has taught us,
Nothing is impossible,
It’s all up there in the mind!
At times I’m laughing out,
Impishly like a child,
Teasing my son,
About his heartbreaks and crushes.
I tell him ‘I just had one too’
‘Mother india’, he blurts out,
‘what the hell are you upto?’
I quickly add, “Oops did I say crushes"?
I meant my ‘hot flushes’"!
But you know?
Midlife is the second teenage,
Just that life has taught us,
How to smartly moderate,
Because hormones will be brats,
They will be up-to pranks ,
While ‘going’ and while ‘Coming’
And coming coming Coming,
Suddenly it sounds so over -rated,
As if not linked to Adhar,
It might soon get deactivated!
At times I’m struggling,
To cut out the cacophony, the din,
Of relations and responsibilities,
Of judgments and opinions.
Next moment,
I can make music and sonnets,
Out of the same noisy dissonance.
With all my demons,
I’ve made peace,
Instead I’m now flirting,
With all my dreams!
Four decades and a half,
Of seeing patriarchy at its peak.
Stereotypes being soiled,
Cobwebs crumbling.
Toughest were the ones,
Lurking inside our houses.
Still a long long way to go!
So to the men around,
Dear darlings,
Fathers,sons,husbands,brothers,
And others and others and others.
Because 'giving’ is a habit,
We cannot give up on,
Doesn’t mean our rights and dignity,
We are offering you on a platter!
To love and to nurture,
Was never an option.
It was in our DNA,
That’s how we are wired!
I’m the rock by your shore,
If the waves are severe.
Anchor, if you feel fragile or lost.
But to guard my own self respect,
I know pretty well,
How to disconnect!
To the hilt I love to play,
A myriad of my roles,
But trust me I can rise above each,
To go on a blind date with my soul!
Forever a feminist,
You step on a legit right,
I’ll dust your doubts.
But I’m also sandwiched between eras,
A connector between Generations.
So I’ll strongly uphold,
What I believe in,
But sieve out my cynicism,
And pass on just the best.
So I’m not burning bras anymore,
For at my age,
I need them lots more!
I’m neither guilty nor apologetic,
About the choices I made,
Don’t call them my sacrifices
I’m no goddess,
I'm no sage.
But do not belittle my surging ahead either,
For up in my head,
I was always crystal clear,
When to zoom on,
When to pull my reigns.
And today at four decades and a half,
In the bliss of my haven,
My work,
My offspring,
I celebrate every war,
Every ceasefire,
Every balance that I have made.
I’m a super hero
My six yards are my cape!
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Published by Jasmine Khurana
From a geeky economics lecturer (later administrator) to now dancing to the real soundtrack of my life as a writer and Spoken Word Artist.
JasmineKhurana.com is my ongoing journey transcending through myriad roles and how I rise above them to go on blind dates with my soul.
View all posts by Jasmine Khurana
Wow!! What a rendition and aptly explained coming of age acceptance !! I’m a super hero
My six yards are my cape! Well said.
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Thankyou so much Neeta for your warm words ❤️
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