On a train ride towards a child’s dream,
I sat by the window searching for shadow in whimsical leak
Came through the door an old woman with naive glee
I was stupefied so was the girl next to me
You see the woman was not ordinary
Her chocolate coloured skin was wrinkled, I agree
Her hunched shoulders and wavered walk was time-weary, i agree
However she was not carrying world on her shoulder but living the world
Don’t you see, Don’t you agree, How different she is
Girl next to me was mesmerised by her so she asked “So radiant. How old is you?”
“Only 80.” was her sassy reply.
A beret hat, red jeans and bling’d poncho she wore
And she was telling her “Only 80” as if there is lifetime and more
In the end I smiled and then pondered can it be my truth too
Can I be happier with time passing and lifetime to go?
An Indian Princess 