Pens and Pages

It’s funny how one’s life goes through highs and lows But we put some kohl and brush our brows. We someday realize we have no one but foes; So we sit back to paint the nails on our fingers and toes. For that might be the way one can drop that frown, To let not the world and its people pull you down, For I can see my life all blue- the hue I dread But I can change my hair to a better shade of red. I may wake up to find a messy work life But I can neatly braid my hair and pretend it’s all fine. I can find my job dull or whine that it’s not fair But I can take out a magic wand and curl my hair. I may cry all I can, as if I’m trapped in Medusa’s lair But tomorrow I’ll still show up with a confident flair.

For those of you who haven’t met me in person, I must, before writing about the miseries of wearing a bitch face, write why I say I have a bitch face. I am a plump woman with a round face and I vividly remember my batchmate at MDI, Nikhil, claiming that my “default face” is similar to a sad smiley, which implied people who didn’t know me would find it difficult to approach and talk to me. Similar were the thoughts of my Capgemini FLP (Freshers’ Learning Program) mate Alakananda who had said that if one sees me from a distance one gets the impression of someone with an attitude of arrogance. When a person is not smiling, it is quite understood that the person is either thinking something or listening or doing anything but not smiling. When I am not smiling people ask me, “What’s wrong?” I remember my first job at Capgemini when our senior Sashank would complain out loud, “ye ladki roti kyu rehti hai?” And since he would not give much opportunity to me to reply, I would jus...

When I was fifteen Growing up was the new thing :-) I said no kissing Till I turn eighteen :-/ A secret room for two When I turn twenty-two <3 But now I'm twenty-four And I throw him out that door  :-/ Tomorrow I'll be twenty-six And I'll be in a fix  :-( For when I'm thirty Things might get dirty :-O Because I'll again need you When I turn thirty-two :-) But when we both turn sixty Being together will be risky :-/ For we'd want to be fifteen again And break the promise of kissing too late. :-P

My alarm rang And I woke up mad. I tried to unwind the clock; Alas! It stopped. I got up from my bed And, into two, it broke. I stood up and sighed; I called it bad luck’s stroke. I walked to the nearest store; “Out of bread,” the old man told. To the next store, I walked a mile; Shut was the door; “closed” said the sign. I walked farther And my heels broke off. I called out for a cab, “No,” he said with a scoff. I came back home Only to realize That I lost the keys, The spare remained inside. And I cried all day Till the fall of the dusk; I heaved a sigh And called it just my luck.