MIRROR SIZED LIFE

The world is but an elaborate reflection of one’s own ideas and perceptions that keeps us going. It’s a mirror we all live in, glancing at ourselves head to toe, reveling in our triumphs, lamenting over our shortcomings and stupefying at the other bewildering reflections of the capabilities we never knew existed in us. Each day is another page written by the quill of destiny, with each noun conducive to another incipient chapter budding in our lives and verbs made of wistful projections of the desires buried in the deep attics of our hearts that we inexorably seek to accomplish every day. Every moment is the inception of an idea, a desire, maybe a whim or a feeble dream about a reflection we always wanted to see in that mirror. Interestingly the mirror neither shows ‘that’ reflection nor the way to become it, but plants the infinitesimal seeds that keep on germinating with each new page that is scribbled in our lives.

 Mirror is intriguing. You know it’s you in there, right? Try to look in the mirror for 10 minutes straight in dim light and you may start doubting yourself. If you doubt yourself, you won’t stop looking and if you keep looking, you won’t stop doubting. You may break it into pieces but you’d still look back into them for once.

It’s an innate desire, an obsession with the identity if not a fear of others’ perceptions about it to keep ourselves from drowning in oblivion and a constant reminder of the package we came in.

Human race has for long been intimidated by the questions: Where do we come from? Where are we going? What lies beyond? Are we alone? And there are various plausible answers to them with no absolute proof but a belief. The doubt drowns you a fathom more but a belief no matter right or wrong raises you above. That is another belief.

So no answer or belief can be absolutely denied. There might be others out there, residents of some distant planet or a world that exists parallel to ours that is omnipresent but invisible, yearning for a slight doubt to come into existence just like a mirror which always shows the reflection but man is too absorbed in his world to keep looking into it to find something beyond his belief, to know if it’s his world out there or his reflection’s or to touch it and make a slight stir much like the concentric ridges made by throwing a pebble in  water which does it’s work irrespective of the volume of water. But if truly man were just one touch away from that world, it would have been a rage on either side of the mirror to know each other and most of all to tell each other apart. It can break; it can tarnish but the mirror stands unfazed asking you in the face, “For how long will you face your face to face the reality?”