By Aditya Singh (L&T MHPS)

With the morning about to dawn, my dozy eyes opened to look with a constant gaze at the  rotating ceiling fan.The constant darkness was occasionally being broken by the flickering  balcony light that just managed to sneak in through the window near my head. The silence being the loudest voice in that room  started intruding me of the choices that I made, the decisions I  took, the roads I travelled, the distances I covered, the travellers I rode with. The scrutiny  seemed to be difficult and the questions innumerable. This interrogative tranquillity was apparently obstructing the magnetic doors of my eyes to close. But not for so long.

As I lied in a swoon, the light of the rising sun peeked in through the window and piercing my  eyes fell on the mirror hung across me. The light as it fell on the mirror made an incomplete  reflection. The reflection as it appeared had wrinkles of time and a long wait. And in that  reflection I was able to see someone that I was familiar to or may be I never knew him. The  reflection was in the search of the sun to set again so that it may bury itself in darkness and  no one is able to see its wrinkles, its solitude, its hunger and its dreams. And as I thought of rising from the bed to observe the reflection critically to see if its me or the mirror, the sloth side of me pulled the curtains down.

“Twenty three”, I smiled. Wishing myself a happy birthday, I closed my eyes to fall in a trance to  witness the roads less travelled.


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