Mixed Feelings

As a girl, I thought 
I am non pareil, a heir
to a prosperous  businessman.

Still more, felt elated 
to be a child of a talented 
rich lady

I grew up  in splendour
under strict inspection
 impossible to deviate.

Prescriptions were set
schedules fixed, clothes 
starched and ironed,

outfits being traditional,
long skirts while young,
cotton sarees while as a girl.

Tutors came in the evening,
vocal, dance and playing 
on veena, every alternate day,

Routine I could never escape.
I went  to school with 
a tight single plait, 

a string of flowers
pinned to the hair,
a red round kum kum 

bhindi on the center 
of the forehead,  
were trademarks 

which identified me through 
school and university,  extend 
to this day with a minor change.

My  peppery hair has gone up 
in the form of a tiny bun like knot,
while my gait has altered marginally.

A slow walk  with an oscillation
to balance my aching knees,
has  assumed a dominance.

I hear a call from far,
” Amma, wait,  I have come
 to drive you back home.”

I have walked a kilometer
from my house,  thinking 
of the past and the present.
No thought of future for now