Monday, September 22, 2008

The Mirror

The glass looked a bit worn out and discoloured. The grime had stuck to it like glue and stubborn patches made their mark in the otherwise shiny surface . But he didnt seem to mind. It had become a habit for him to stand in front of it for a few minutes everyday.The glare of the sun reflected through the glass. The eyes stared back at him. Cold, unemotional. He was not looking at the dry tanned skin nor the lines that had etched themselves. He had that ageless look about him. He pushed a strand of smooth wavy hair that had fallen over his eyes . He splashed water on his eyes and stared again . Those eyes bored into his , almost piercing through him. He looked away disappointed .

It was a daily ritual. The mirror seemed to tell him something.It showed him his tanned skin, his bright features, his cold eyes, his deep lines, his ageless face - but it could not show him something that he was been looking for all these years...his IDENTITY .

4 comments:

~vagabond~ said...

That is just beautifully written. Must say you have a real gift at this. :)

I am said...

hmmmmm interesting...
I really like your crisp way of expressing..I was almost sketching the face :)

I have had some thoughts lately on this word MIRROR but its on a diff. line. shall write about it in sometime..

"SunShine" said...

I just love the minute expressions you wrote about.

But i really wonder if mirror can reflect the identity. Havnt spared so much time in front of it anyways :)

Diana said...

loved the details of the look in the mirror.