Vanita is an engineer-researcher-consultant-artist: a gifted singer-poetess; & writes in English-Hindi-Gujarati on her diverse experiences
THE MIRROR ....
Once, along with many other gifts,
Life placed a lovely mirror in my hands.
It was beautiful and reflective.
I held it before myself
And gazed at the reflection in it.
I liked it so much
That I started examining minutely
Every curve of the beautiful image it reflected.
While doing so,
I came across an ugly, undesirable curve.
There were some more such curves.
There was also
A thin layer of dust on the mirror.
I did not like their presence
And in order to remove them,
I scratched the mirror’s surface.
One scratch, two scratches ....
The curves did not vanish,
Nor was I able to
Wipe out the layer of dust completely,
But my dear mirror’s beauty,
Its reflectiveness was marred.
I realized how delicate it was !
“Oh my dear mirror !
My dearest, delicate mirror !
I don’t want to loose you !”
My heart gave an anxious cry.
I clasped it – my dearest, delicate mirror !
I held it tight against myself.
My grip broke my mirror !
Tearfully, I saw its broken pieces
Lying on the floor
In a pool of my heart’s blood.
- Vanita Thakkar (from my old diary - written some time in 1992)
© 2020 Vanita Thakkar