Unlike the wrinkles on a shirt that get pressed on, with no stories to share, the wrinkles on a face mean so much more. They highlight the years of laughter, the moments of tears, the days of toil and more importantly the beauty of time. They are like journey lines, each telling a different story. The ones around the eyes speak about the heartfelt smiles that made their way from the lips to the eyes, the furrows near the brow retain those un-worded disapprovals , those on the forehead, the unabashed exclamations, the creases near the mouth roar with the sound of laughter, and those under the chin scream of the unshed tears that you pursed your way through.
Do we have to smoothen these and erase a part of the past? Do we have to make them disappear? Ageing is inevitable but ageing elegantly and beautifully is something we should still hold on to, no?
