Questions one faces in midlife ……… most don’t want to talk about it …… because is hurtful, demeaning and not worth sharing. Because of intense privacy or to protect the image of a perfect life. But then the questions don’t go away. All is not so sad and dull. Life is beautiful most of the times. But sometimes these things rise up like a ghastly and ugly steel contraption in a beautiful field of flowering tulips.


There’s a question I hear, often every day

Where were you, when needed someday

With arrogance and disgust on full display

Where was I, I scratch my head

With an idiotic look on my face

Try to remember, lost details

Wherever I had, apparently failed

For I never memorise things I do

All without pomp and sway

Like clearing the path, defusing mines

Saving us, from of imploding away

Hanging in there just behind

Yet moving away just in time

When spotlights dazzle and come alive

And the applause begins

And you to take the bow

And whatever I do, I mention not

The chores I did or did not

For that is like, going on a walk

Into a field of landmines