Every morning the mirror waits, as I wake up and rush to wash my face. I look at my reflection with a beating heart. The image that forms decides how the day starts. Some days I am a beauty to reckon with…others I cringe at the sight that beckons me. There are days my face speaks of all the potential to be realized, and there are times when the reflection surrenders without a fight. What I see every day is a different hue…it makes me wonder if the mirror’s giving the real view? I have never stared in my eyes directly…it’s only the reflection I gaze at, that defines my personality. The realization dawns sometimes…it’s not the reflection but the one who is looking is divine. The different hues I see are just a part of me…yet they fall short when they try to define me. I am not the changing reflections…I am the constant that views the changes. But again I wonder… why can’t I see what’s real in the mirror? The answer sometimes pops up…‘seeing oneself’ is a journey that we are supposed to undertake. But the next day again I wake up and rush to the mirror to see what it has in store for me. And so continues the journey of ‘Being me’.
life from thought to thought 