Culture & Society

Poems: ‘Ageing’, ‘Fairness Creams’ And ‘Ageing Is Fun’

Paramita Mukherjee Mullick writes three poems on ageing and fairness creams.

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Photo: Getty Images
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Ageing

Some grey hairs are peeping out.

Wrinkles and crow’s feet are about to sprout.

I am ageing, I am ageing, I am growing old.

But age is what is making me bold.

My arms and legs are becoming weak.

Doctor’s advice I sometimes seek.

I am ageing, I am ageing, I am becoming worn out.

But age is making me aware

of what I want without a doubt.

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My body doesn’t work the same way.

I tire out fast at the end of the day.

I am ageing, I am ageing, I am fatigued fast.

But age is making me smarter,

my brain is becoming anti-rust.

Fairness Cream

Why so many creams to make my face fair?

Why don’t they make creams to make my heart fair?

Why don’t they dare?

Fairness cream to make us shine.

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Make us beautiful in a line.

Don’t they make creams to sparkle the mind?

Don’t they make lotions to make the heart just and kind?

Fairness cream to make us dazzle.

With a fair face fitting in the jigsaw puzzle.

Don’t they make creams to sharpen our brains?

Don’t they have lotions

to have kindness blood flow in arteries and veins?

Fairness cream to make us glow.

To make us the showstopper in the show.

Don’t they make creams to make our heart accept all?

Don’t they make lotions to help others when they fall?

Fairness cream to make us resplendent.

To make us attractive at every bend.

Do make creams to make a happy heart.

Do make lotions to stop all poison darts.

Ageing Is Fun

Years are being added to my life.

A doting mother and a devoted wife.

The days of hop, skip and jump have gone.

I feel breathless when I have to run.

Negativities which pierced me and hurt me before.

Are just like dust now and I sweep them out of the door.

Good and kind people who help me in need.

I cherish them and plant them in my heart

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like a happiness seed.

I am ageing, I am ageing, I am getting old.

But insecurities have fallen off and I have become bold.

Grey hairs are popping up here, there and everywhere.

But no longer am I scared of weaknesses to share.

I wear clothes more for my comfort and style then fashion.

New things I do now with so much more passion.

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I try to treasure every beautiful moment of time.

My hunger for goodness has gone,

now I know the good and bad rhyme.

I am ageing, I am ageing, I am becoming old.

But it is a lovely age to understand imitation from gold.

Everything is clear now, all that was vague.

I now can avoid plastic people like plague.

A new type of freedom has set in my mind.

A new type of confidence which is hard to find.

My skin is getting wrinkles and it dries up fast.

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But I regurgitate and enjoy memories of the past.

With exposure and experience I am so much more refined.

Different cultures and arts attract me now as they are more defined.

I have become thirsty to learn new things every day.

I want to support and help others in my small way.

All responsibilities coming to an end.

Reaching out like a banyan root and finding new friends.

I want to make all around me happy and to them joy give.

Until death comes I want to always live.

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