I'm ninety now;
Old as a neem tree
Pure and genuine,
All my white hairs
Speak of my age and experience.
How to start with, yes,
I saw the freedom movement
The division of Bengal.
The cheap rated ration,
The half town Calcutta,
Coal engined rails,
The Priests of Church.
My mom was from Bangladesh,
And settled in Bengal,
Today you call it West Bengal!
I was brought up in a missionary orphanage
So I loved the religion,
And became a follower of Christ,
Without any second thought,
without any modern debate.
I didn't go to any school,
The world was a school for me,
So many years taught me
The power of youth
And the helplessness of old age.
I read Bible every day
I eat and sleep every day,
But I can't go out of the house
As I'm old today.
The unity of my family
Is a forgotten history now,
No son sees the other
I too calculate and talk,
Yes, I'm ninety now.
If I laugh at any
Or suggest anything
No one listens to me
As I'm old.
But nothing is painful now.
If God is not taking my life
What is my fault?
Living a long life
Is a curse now.
I see people
Talking over mobiles
And using computers,
But my books are my assets
My best friends now.
I do not understand people
Or their thoughts today,
Maybe age has taken
All my wisdom, power.
I do not remember my husband's face
He's gone to Heaven years back
Only I'm waiting
For the last call of God.
What is Heaven
What is Hell
Now I know more than well.
Yes, I'm ninety now.
