Reflections..

It was early hours of an April morning. And as spring bade goodbye, it had left hints of freshness like the lingering fragrance of a perfume. Misha had been on her toes since wee hours of the morning. The clock struck 7:00 am, as she stood in-front of the mirror, checking herself. It was a day of its kind. Some excitement was let lose inside her, similar to what she had experienced before on her other ‘firsts’, but this was more intense.

After spending almost 22 years in the warm comfort and protection of her family and the reserved precincts of her town – the day had come to embark on a new expedition. Misha had got a job in a metropolitan city with a global organization. Today she was to get her wings ! Wings – that would take her thousands of miles away from things known, familiar and learnt, to a place unknown in every sense of the word. But like a fledgling preparing for its first flight, there was a little nervousness about everything – the instinctive fear of the unknown maybe.

As she scanned herself for the minutest flaws, that her naïve sense of grooming could uncover, she had an awkward feeling of the image in the mirror come alive. Absorbed in the moment, she reached out her hand. The time suspended its flow as she found herself walking down an alley springing up live images that gave her a sense of déjà vu.

The image of a toddler peeping into the mirror, and wanting to reach out to the one at the other end. A two year old kid smearing her lips with a maroon lipstick, which painted not just her lips ! A child of three in a uniform, all agog with excitement on her first day at school. A little further, a five yr old, dressed up proud in a red frock, a gift for her fifth birthday. And similar and more images softened her expression and moistened her eyes. As she kept walking she saw her adolescent self, so full of dreams and lost in wishful thinking – talking to herself in the mirror. And in a few others, this growing up lady, only lately acknowledging her feminine instincts, looking careful of her bearing.

  

“Misha ! It’s getting late. Hurry up ! “

It was her mom calling. The voice broke her trance.. She was standing in-front of the mirror, the clock showing 7:05 am. She felt she had been there for long. She made a move to depart. And as she stole a last glimpse at her mirror, she wondered if it has been a repository of her life – the events, the moods and the persons, that she’s been thus far. Or was it just a trip down the memory lane, which parting brings about as a consequence..

“I’m right there Ma ! Lets move..”