Falling Leaves of Autumn
The unshaped brows or uni brow,
Hairy legs and love handles
Graying tresses, managed with the natural henna
While pulling in the tummy doesn't work any more
A recent pic told me that you looked way older than the one on the passport.
I stopped by the bedside, and took a deep breath;
I had to poise myself before I take a closer view of yours.
I have to prepare myself to see the greys and the bulges,
To know that everyday I have been kissing these very frayed lips
And to have never noticed the transformation.
I looked and looked, and yet never felt sore
I was happy to have looked and see the glow
Of a halo of white hairs around your temple,
And the plump body couldn't contain all the love
You were brilliant and calm and comforting, all at the same time.
A bigger fear crept up my saggy sleeves;
I am a couple of years older than you, would I be any better?
I remembered, since a long time now, I haven't visited the mirror
As you button up my shirt, comb my hair and adjust my glasses
To overcome the grief of not having a baby to groom
I too had obliged and it made me feel better for not being able to give you a baby.
I tried to remember since when had this routine began
Yes, a late spring evening when the doc told us not to try any more
You had a long debate with him, came out teary but resolute
You told me, baby was just a whim, our curiosity and joys still remain.
I never questioned, I believed in my darling
Anyways, it felt great to love like you are a teen, even in thirties.
Now, reaching the fifties, nearly 2 decades later, I had to look at myself in the mirror.
Oh, I remember, we don't hang one at home.
I searched in your secret stash and found one, clean, so you have been using it...
Oh woman, she has to look at herself, yet you amaze me.
The arched jaw bones, the sunken eyes, nose - is it there?
Is this me? Is this why I was convinced to freelance?
No, it cannot be.. Wake up, wake up wifey.........
Ok... no, don't wake up. I am also asleep.
Shall I sob or throw things in anger?
Did she still call me her cutie pie?
How did I even think that they hair or the love handles would be a problem
My love, no I will not do anything to upset you,
But let me just prepare myself for the morning; you sleep well - kisses.
Yes, today I is a bright new day for me, and for us
I can't keep you in dark. Yes I know now why we freelance,
I know why you fought bitterly with the doc.
Yes, we'll go out and see the magic of life and not be bothered about looks
Yes, I have re-discovered this love; my love.
This is an attempt on the kind of mellowed love, that has been matured like the old wine. Early morning, this valentines day, as I came out of the railway station with my hubby after his knee surgery, we happened to notice an elderly couple coming across us. The sight touched both of us, we were silent in its completeness. I wanted to write about it. This CBC's contest forced me to shed my hibernation and write it...
This is a post written for a Valentine’s Day – Write a love letter campaign organized by The Chennai Bloggers Club.
