The Old Man and his Mirror

Caught a saying the other day by someone called Carol Grace. It said,
"There is no old age.
There is, as there always was,
Only you!"

It sounded great. And rang very true. 

Yet I couldn't help but think: whatever internet quotes say, the sad reality is that even if you believe that you are still 'you', the world around will persist in ceaselessly reinforcing that you are simply, old.....!

Hence, this piece.

The Old Man and his Mirror

Each morning I meet my mirror:
On agenda, the old usuals-
Brush, shave, comb.

We are good friends-
My mirror and I;
It tells me sundry things:
The drop of shaving foam sticking to my chin.
The need to get a haircut soon.
My lips chapped by our bone dry summer.
The patch of dryness on my left cheek.
The pinpoint of a pimple beneath my nose.
And for my puffy eyes,
(Remnant of last night's scotch-on-the-rocks)
It directs a brief rebuke.

I take my walk in the park.
There are summer bougainvilleas:
Rani pink,
Bright.
Just like the ones that grew in school.

Under yellow amaltas
Lovers sit;
Her head on his shoulders.
His arm draped around her.
Wisps of desire, 
Plumes of tendré,
Scent the air
And waft around me.

A naughty toddler splashes
In a mud brown puddle
Leftover from yesterday's surprise shower;
Giggling as he stirs the water
With his shiny sneakers.
His glee whirls up
And dances around me.

At the Girls' College gate
The phuchkawallah is doing brisk business.
Chattering girls relish his wares...
Slivers of tang, spice and heat rise up,
Ping my taste buds.

The Metro Station is crowded.
And so is my train.
Having given my car a day off
I push and jostle into a coach.
Inside, all seats are taken.
More jostling but I plant my feet firm
And grab the hand holds above,
Before a seated girl
In bright fuschia skirt
Deep pink ear hoops
All curves and sinuous lines 
And lips painted shiny mauve.

The train lurches.
The girl in pink stands up
Pink hoops dangling;
Gestures to her empty seat.
For me? I'm surprised.
But she's smiling a condescending smile.
'My-Good-Deed-for-the-Day' smile.
Others around are smiling too:
Complicit, encouraging.
Cowed
I take that empty seat.
Look up
And catch her eye:
Dark kajal
Lush lashes
Brown irises
Black pupils;
And in them, reflected-
Me.
Faint stoop.
Thick specs.
Gray hair.
Deep wrinkles
(Good Lord, so many!).

An old man.

I don't trust my mirror anymore:
It's a liar.