By Debi Mukherjee
At the age of thirty and eight, with two babies at my toes,
and a promising career ahead, I felt like a woman of the modern world. The year was 2017, and I ambitious and eager,
it felt like my life had unfurled.
One evening, while rushing home, I chanced to see
a familiar face in the crowd, quite unexpectedly.
An old friend from school, we hugged, we smiled,
catching up quickly, it had been quite a while.
She was very happy to hear about my progress,
and congratulated me for now being a mother of two.
But it was her parting words that stayed with me, she commended on me being able to maintain my "youth"!
"What do you mean?" I interjected.
She had been a few years my senior, I felt as if I had missed her line of thought. She winked and said, " ‘Fine lines’ girl.
I have it all over my face,
Are you using treatments?
You look great! “
She meant well, I knew, by her candor.
She smiled at me warmly, I complimented her too that she looked great! We hugged and promised to meet again.
At night I stared at my face, stretching the corners of my chin and the center of my brow-
“Yes, I see them now!”
"Fine" was merely to make its presence felt.
My heart raced, I was chasing to catch a moving train- my age!
Was this what people were thinking? Did my friend merely help me peek into a world that I did not yet see?
A world where a woman's accomplishments are diminished to how she appeared? Or how she aged?
My heart raced as I pondered this fate, I was inching towards thirty and eight. But was it too late?
To age gracefully, without a wrinkle or gray,
to meet the impossible standards of each passing day?
The screen exploded with a search of the words "fine lines," Anti-aging creams in endless designs. Serums, moisturizers, day creams, night creams
Fifteen steps to follow before I sleep!
I felt robbed of my dignity, to ride this endless chase,
and to grace the world everyday with a youthful face.
Yet I'm only a woman, vulnerable and real,
to imagine that the world is expecting nothing but timelessness from -every woman like me- It was heart wrenching indeed.
So as it turned to midnight, I faced my own truth,
I stepped into those pajamas,
at last ordering my serum of “Youth.”
By Debi Mukherjee
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