Fine Lines

By Debi Mukherjee

At the age of thirty and eight, with two babies at my toes, 

and a promising career ahead, I felt like a woman of the modern world. The year was 2017, and I ambitious and eager, 

it felt like my life had unfurled. 

One evening, while rushing home, I chanced to see 

a familiar face in the crowd, quite unexpectedly. 

An old friend from school, we hugged, we smiled, 

catching up quickly, it had been quite a while. 

She was very happy to hear about my progress, 

and congratulated me for now being a mother of two. 

But it was her parting words that stayed with me, she commended on me being able to maintain my "youth"! 

"What do you mean?" I interjected. 

She had been a few years my senior, I felt as if I had missed her line of thought. She winked and said, " ‘Fine lines’ girl. 

I have it all over my face, 

Are you using treatments? 

You look great! “ 

She meant well, I knew, by her candor.

She smiled at me warmly, I complimented her too that she looked great! We hugged and promised to meet again. 

At night I stared at my face, stretching the corners of my chin and the center of my brow- 

“Yes, I see them now!” 

"Fine" was merely to make its presence felt. 

My heart raced, I was chasing to catch a moving train- my age! 

Was this what people were thinking? Did my friend merely help me peek into a world that I did not yet see? 

A world where a woman's accomplishments are diminished to how she appeared? Or how she aged? 

My heart raced as I pondered this fate, I was inching towards thirty and eight. But was it too late? 

To age gracefully, without a wrinkle or gray, 

to meet the impossible standards of each passing day? 

The screen exploded with a search of the words "fine lines," Anti-aging creams in endless designs. Serums, moisturizers, day creams, night creams 

Fifteen steps to follow before I sleep! 

I felt robbed of my dignity, to ride this endless chase, 

and to grace the world everyday with a youthful face.

Yet I'm only a woman, vulnerable and real, 

to imagine that the world is expecting nothing but timelessness from -every woman like me- It was heart wrenching indeed. 

So as it turned to midnight, I faced my own truth, 

I stepped into those pajamas, 

at last ordering my serum of “Youth.”

By Debi Mukherjee