One of my dearest uncles,
Astounded me on my 8th birthday gifting me a Barbie doll.
The Barbie enthralled me much more than the second-lasting sparklers.
I was on the seventh heaven holding my very own Barbie,
Almost drowning in obsession.
I would sit for hours and
Comb her curly hairs,
And fix the repair.
My Barbie was absolutely perfect in every way.
Fair, slender, sexy.
But I, was neither fair nor slender and sexy…
Her blue eyes were as catchy ;
as my black bulgy eyes were ugly.
I would look into the mirror for hours,
trying to remove my every scar and spot.
My Barbie was just perfect,
And I an imperfect mother.
She found a perfect match
As I was a disastrous mismatch.
She found ‘kane’, the love of her life.
Maybe he fell for her beauty.
But I got nobody,
No love of my life
Because I wasn’t an epitome of beauty.
With passing days,
I started sulking into depression.
‘That’ Barbie had an independent life.
She would hang out with Hanna, Ana, Tracy ;
But I had no one to share even a single moment of despair with.
Blonde or brunette,
Slender or curvy;
Black or white,
Princess or president;
My ‘Barbie’ was an all-rounder.
She grew more beautiful,
And I turned envious and more envious.
So envious that one day,
I burned that 11.6-inch plastic object to ashes…
Happy 60th birthday, dear Barbie!