A Man in The Looking Glass
A Man in The Looking Glass
This world is a large hippodrome in which we get to witness the never-ending drama of human lives, as though in three-ringed circuses or professional puppet shows, or like entertaining music concerts in cabarets or exhilarating comedy shows in burlesque. This world is the land of ongoing fairs, the busiest bazaar that’s on and active all days of the week. There is so much hustle and bustle all around that we often forget to pause and reflect on ourselves. We get caught up in the pursuit of our dreams—the rush and race for wealth and worldly pleasures—losing sight of our past experiences and the lessons they hold. But if we take a moment to look in the mirror, we will see a person on a journey, someone who has grown and learned along the way. We are all connected and part of the same divine plan. And when we finally realize this, we can appreciate and value each person, regardless of their age, circumstance, ethnicity, or race. When we give ourselves some time to reflect on ourselves, we find that we are all instruments of the same giver, sharing wisdom and love with others.
It was 2 hours past the 47th minute,
Not far away from the midnight's twelve.
The date counted 26th of cold November,
Sleepless, I woke up to analyze about self.
To measure the aperture I tilled-
Between who I was in the past and who I had become thence,
And to count and compare the days I walked alone
Or sprinted with the company of friends.
I jumped off my bed to step on the cold, dewed floor,
Which was a rough unplastered ground,
Walked on by wizened feet of a man turned old and poor.
Who is now partially blind, wheezing and puffing,
And breathlessly resting at the gloomy corner,
Of a wrecking house with perforated roofs rending,
As in the distant desert a soldier's bombarded bunker.
My father, my God Father, the world’s best Father,
Who has devoted his strength to frame my entity.
My divine father, who lost his gleaming dignity,
Then surrendered and sacrificed his solitary identity,
To become an immobile and bedridden folk
Long before he could even step on the door of seventy,
To live with nothing in hand but with a hollow mind
To abide with deeds of charity and acts of sanctity.
He did teach me the value that comes before the truths,
And the costs of sin that comes following the lies,
He did teach me to walk on the rock bedded floors
To make me enjoy the simplest steps taken on tiles,
He did prepare me to live a life that gives others more
But waits for nothing and expects less in return,
To take more wisdom from the moments of tears,
And take less delight from the events of fun.
Thus, I climb down and saunter towards a ruptured wall,
To stand still and stare in the blurry mirror,
And in a broken glass, I see a reflection, short and not yet tall,
Who in self was a tutee of a preacher, a son of the Giver,
Who, in this labyrinthine and pristine world,
Has many unreached places to reach,
Who, in this nexus and complex world,
Stores many untaught wisdoms to preach.
And a mirror tells that we all are unlearned pupil,
A faultless daughters or sons unintentionally born,
That we have to go beyond this border without our will,
And will be remembered when we have been gone.
The trail is mischievous, and the future is obvious,
That we all shall crawl through the scale of the elderlies,
The end is clear, look into the mirror and compare your previous,
How nature is changing us without charging any fees.
In this busy life, we often forget to reflect on ourselves. We become very busy, hooked on the dreams of earning money and becoming rich, and trapped in the net of emotional luxury. We are focused on the future or lost in the present, but we never look back at the past. We hardly look back on the past, the paths we have walked through, the people we have encountered and talked with, the circumstances we have been through, and the challenges we have fought with. But day and night, we are simply breathing, eating, sleeping, and waking up to follow the same busy routine that offers us contentment. But look into the mirror. Who do you see? You see a person who is yet to grow up, who is in the process of growing up, or who has grown up to understand and travel through the burning coals that life spreads across our path. Some have just started the journey, some have covered half of it, and some are about to touch the finish line. Look into the mirror and measure where you have reached.
Look into your eyes in reflection, feel to whom you belong, and think about that giver who gave you life to live and wisdom to keep. You are the innocent son or daughter of the two givers, the parents, and the learning pupil of the largest teacher, the word, who beats you, punishes you, and makes you fight with thorns and boulders, yet gives you the sweetest orange and fragrant rose and takes you to the highest mountaintop that offers you a clear view of the world below you. Then you see and feel why the giver not only gave you life but also the virtues and wisdom to apply in life. Then you will realize the importance of valuing people of all ages, the flowers of all gardens, and the crops of all fields, whether they are wrinkled, dropped, or infested with pests. We are all the same part of the giver, who first takes from the giver and imparts the same life and values to others, being an enlightened giver.
