I have forgotten to take care of my mirror!
The mirror on my bedroom wall has cried for long now,
dejected, unattended and forlorn.
Suddenly a truth dawns
that it has been decades since I have noticed her;
Time, indeed has elapsed!
The remnants are
those scary dark circles beneath the eyes,
patches of aging on the forehead,
certain black spots that might not be on the surface
yet has started to grow from within
where a peeling off has taken place,
instead of that olden glow and
that strange familiar proud lift of the jaw line
which, now, is seldom perceived!
The mirror at present stares
with a tired disheveled look.
Will you forgive me, O Mirror?
I got busy walking the long roads,
carefully skipping and jumping
the potholes and the ditches,
hurrying up in bents and curves and forlorn alleys,
with such utmost care and caution
and I forgot you!
Now, when I have come back after toiling the day,
stitching up every hole and knitting together
every unwanted rip,
hemming the corners that so very often protrude,
striving to unfasten the tangles and knots,
weaving a patchwork,
painting a collage,
painstakingly making an effort,
so that the colors don’t smudge,
wiping away neatly all unwanted blotches or smear,
now that I have come back after toiling the day,
I find my mirror
with a choked longing and
a smothered dream
and some extinguished hopes.
The distance between me and my mirror
appears unfathomable, a void that quivers
so palpably yet so subtly in between us.
Who is it
What is it
I was seeking,
that now, my mirror seems to be
an absolute stranger to my own self?