By Anisha Gupta
Mirror sees its shadow for the first time. It shows us our reality and what shows it, its own reality? The shadow.
But when I see the mirror. I run away to fetch for a lens cleaner. Just to give a swish full of wipe to the mirror. The stains are gone but the wounds still stay. My finger prints un-etched themselves and the mirror stands even. But the ripples in my reflection are a bit too clear. A ripple to the right droops the right cheek. A ripple beneath refracts the length of the face. A ripple somewhere else blends the mirror into me. And we both see our flaws protruding out of our shadows as we pull the blinds on our face together.
By Anisha Gupta
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