Ageing Wine

By B Chandran

When we join Montessori, they ask our age.

"I'm three and a half!" is what we say.

It's neither three nor four. We explain,

we're proud to grow, it's a privilege.

If we go for R-rated movies, they ask our age.

“Newly eighteen," is what we say.

It's not just a number. We emphasise the meaning.

It is the glowing milestone, the gates to the next stage.

We order drinks, they may ask our age.

"I've turned twenty-one," is what we say.

It is the final stepping stone to adulthood.

We're moving away from our metaphysical cage.

While we receive our pension, they ask our age.

"We're pushing sixty," is what we say.

Like sixty is a boulder that we've pushed up a hill.

And we're afraid that that's it.

If we go on a cruise ship, they may ask our age.

"We're reaching eighty,” is what we say.

Is it our last journey on this planet?

How strange is our life's coverage?

Then, we change.

Go to an art class

Fill up what’s missing,

they are curious about our age.

Let them keep guessing.

And we explain.

"I'm a hundred years young!

No, don't think that I am done.

It's my willpower that decides my fun,

and yes, next year, I'll be a hundred and one!"

For age is just a number.

A hundred need not lead to a slumber.

It is math that does the talking,

but our minds do the thinking.

Wisdom sets in when we think straight.

Not when we're ten or eighty-eight.

Bring on the cake, bring on the frosting.

With a new year, comes some celebrating!

By B Chandran