MAN IN THE MIRROR
I once looked in the mirror,
Exquisite frame studded with gold,
Last time I saw, I was twenty four,
Now, I am 60 years old.
A worn-out languid figure
Gazed back at me,
Shriveled face with no vigour,
I was dubious of his identity.
Who was it in the mirror?
Frail, senile and ugly,
Then, to my utter horror,
His familiar countenance told me, it was me.
The figure stared at me contemptuously,
“You are hideous goon unlike your other peers,
Estranged from your own affable family,
Now, for you, there’s none to shed tears”.
“For money, you stooped low,
Aloof from the family you had been,
That you didn’t even know
Your son had turned eighteen”.
I retort, “I have wealth,
On nutritious food, I feed,
Great physique and good health,
Isn’t it all an old man need?”
“Can wealth buy love you robbed of family?
Or trade with your erstwhile youth?
Can it afford laughter of glee?
Or replace your fallen tooth?”
Queer figure continued, “Life is a playful park
To be with your family, to fill the gap,
Waking together in the morn, retreating in the dark,
To see your kid take his first baby-step”.
I with much plight realize then,
Children eschewed me, so did my wife,
Having all treasures and monetary gain,
Yet, I had lost so much in life!
13th July, 2011