Shopping for cute things at Christmas

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With Christmas around the corner, a variety of displays greet us. A  building made of chocolates even  in this hot place... Cuddly toys of every size and shape peep out from windows waiting to jump right into your arms as if for adoption...

 But the highlight of this season are the cakes. Almost everyone  is giving a treat to everyone else...  So much so that it almost feels like 'Cake-mas' since 'goodwill to all men' is out of fashion anyway. Not that any bad will is prevalent. It's just that 'I, me, my' occupies much of our thoughts.

  

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Comedy with names and faces

Last week as I was crossing a busy road, a lady on a scooter coming in the opposite direction bent double to wish me with a sweet smile. Must be some teacher, I thought though I simply couldn't place her.

In my personal list of  beatitudes,'Blessed are those who can remember names and faces,' comes at the top.
Before my marriage, while people were still at a safe distance away, my younger sister would whisper," Smile at the lady in the yellow sari."  With no time for further explanations, I'd do as told, with no idea at all of who I was smiling at and how I knew that person : whether she was just a  'hi and bye'  acquaintance or a closer friend. Based on the other person's response, I'd have to decide that. And then the doubt of whether I knew about her family and so must I enquire about them or did I just know her from a job point of view...

The more enthusiastic friends frighten me more because I'll be expected to show the same degree of enthusiasm. "How come you've  come this side ?" sometimes leads me into trouble. "Why, I always come here to see   my mom. Have you forgotten or did you mistake me for somebody else? Only last month I told you all about her stone in the bladder and you told me how your own mother recovered from it."
And then I'd thank God that at least I could remember dialogues.

After my marriage  came my husband's initial shock and the usual, 'how can anybody be like that?'
"I remember people better if I visit them at their houses,"I said meekly.
"How can I possibly take you to all the  people's houses just so you can learn their names?" he asked practically.Then onward he started introducing me to his friends and relatives anew every time we met. "My wife must have forgotten you by now." And so, amidst laughter we would enquire about each other. Sometimes I am even able to show off, "Of course, I remember Mr. Pillai. He is from Manakottai and has 3 children."

At school sometimes when Revathi becomes Radhika, the whole class bursts out laughing. Even when Chandra Mohan becomes Mohana Chandran, it's a joke. I tried doing some homework. I translated a quiet girl's name,Ponnmani into English and imagined a holy golden bell at a temple. Foolproof, indeed. But when I called out, 'Thangamani' another word for golden bell, how amused they were!

TV serials and sometimes even stage dramas go above my head when I can't differentiate between brother and brother-in- law or sister and sister-in-law.

Well, what can't be cured must be endured and so I thank whoever stated , "Ignorance is bliss". Maybe he or she went through my experiences.

Anyway even I can count my blessings-

1. My husband doesn't have a twin or even a same looking brother.So thankfully no fear of mistaken identity.
2. I never had to work as a bus conductor - specially crowded buses where I'd never find out who  bought tickets and who didn't. Or in the crime department either.
3. I can always encourage slow learners," See what mistakes I make with names. Yet I've been able to score  high marks in this and that competitive exams."

 I often wonder if  there are  others like me.  Perhaps we should join together and form a club and support one another. Shall we?

Maggie missing

I don't know how to tell my readers that it's happened again. Just after a joyful event something dreadful happens. This blog was meant to cheer its readers. But under the circumstances I  don't know what else to do. Maggie in our thoughts and Maggie in our talk. Forgive me,readers,I can't think of a general topic.

Maggie has been missing for 2 days. We searched all over the place and asked others to search too. She has just disappeared without a trace. Just after she was let loose for her usual rounds, she ate her favourite dish - the cat's rice and left. Luckily the cat was not around. The cat is now a mother and so attacks (used to attack) Maggie ferociously. I don't know how Maggie was with other cats but she was always tolerant of this one. I don't know of any enemy of Maggie apart from this cat.

Nowadays the municipality takes dogs only to sterilize them and send  them back. But Maggie is not there either. Either she has strayed into other dogs' territory and been chased elsewhere by them or more likely still, some human must have kidnapped her.
Friendly dog and beautiful, they must have thought. To them it's just that. To us, she's family. A companion and friend  to my daughter and Terry's right hand. After his mother's death, he started opening up only after Maggie's intervention. She was his pacifier with other dogs. Together they formed a team as leaders of all the dogs of the street.

To us she was different from all other dogs we've seen because she had a strange way of saying, "bo-oo meaning "glad to see you". Shake the dog biscuit bottle and we would get a boo-oo," how nice to eat it". To some it might sound like the  baying of dogs. But actually, this call was unique. We keep running to the door every time we hear an imaginary boo-oo. I keep consoling my daughter, at least she is safe. Whoever took her must have liked her that much, will look after her well.
 Till she gets the chance to run away and surprise us again with a boo-ooo at our doorstep. 

My doggy experiences

                                                    Hi, I'm Maggie.

Sometimes I remember   my old life under different owners and I shudder to think of how my fate might have turned out had I continued there.

  


Maybe I shouldn't blame them. I was fully infected with ticks and mites and had no fur at all.

I don't have a photo of the  old me. I was of the colour  and shape of cooked prawns.

Somehow a kind soul took me to the blue cross where my present owner spotted me and took me home.Got me vaccinated and treated  me for all my ticks, mites and lice.                                                                                                                                                                  

 And treated me almost like I was human.

They already had Terry there, grandson of their favourite pet, Rosie. He welcomed me warmly and continues to be my friend, guide and mentor. He didn't laugh at me even when he found out that I just couldn't bark.


How could I, when both dog and man treated me like an outcast and I had to beg even for their left-overs?.

Only their little kitten didn't accept me. " I hate dogs and I always will. Don't expect me to change my mind.," she said angrily.  

 Unlike some pets who are tied at home all day, I am given freedom to roam about and make friends at specific times..

 This is Frisky, my first doggy girl friend. She told me about the place and introduced me to all the street dogs

."You have speed, you know,"she told me."You sure have some hound blood in you."

She gave me all the self-confidence I have today.

The brown one here is Lucky and the one with the long tail is NeelaVaal which means long tail. Lucky is very submissive even to me and is very loyal. NeelaVaal is more of the happy-go- lucky type.

                                                                     
  Then one day they were missing suddenly. I guessed that something was wrong. Ihad seen a van go after some rowdy dogs the previous day  but I didn't bother much about it then.Now I put on my thinking cap  and at last told my master about it,

                                                                                                                                                                 

    refusing to eat and biting my own paw instead.

This frightened my master and he went out.

                            He must have signed for them because they came back safe and their masters fixed collars for them after that. They thanked me and we continued having all the fun in the world.

Two months ago I met my admirer, Karuppan (black fellow). I noticed him watching me from a distance.Then he introduced himself and started telling me about his life as a vagabond. He tried serving different masters and then gave up when he saw our group. He says I am smart and active.

Last week he proposed to me and said that we should start a big family. But my master told me  firmly, "No starting a family till you celebrate your 1st birthday".

"Remember the dog-catchers?" he asked. " They caught those dogs because of all the pups they leave behind  with every litter."

In the meantime a farm -owner  said he could use me to coax some new trainee dogs to run and chase  intruders who misuse his farm.So now I'm a working dog with a purpose. My master takes me out to a ground nearby for a warm-up every morning. Then the farm owner takes me in his jeep to his farm.There I train new dogs-Shree, Hasina and Shobana to run and chase each other. Not the way we used to play at home, pretending to chase and bite. Here I nudge whoever is last or slow. I am taken home in the evenings. But I have very little time or energy left to play with my old friends. 

Perhaps this is what I was ultimately born for. 

My friend is doing well

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    I was just waiting to inform my dear readers that I finally made it ! I visited my friend   ( who is undergoing radio-therapy for cancer) at the hospital. She is responding well to the treatment. I was able to spend quality time with her and when she mentioned that her days were numbered, I convinced her that it wasn't so. Many  of my friends and relatives suffering from cancer had outlived normal bodied people.

I thank all my readers who breathed a prayer for her well-being.

P.S-This refers to my article,'Love - a garland of sacrifice or a lubricant in daily life?' posted on 19th Oct.

A Diwali Story (dedicated to a Teacher, Mrs.Jannni)

         

"I was cleaning my house for Diwali when I found an old letter from my classmate, Saleema.

She was from Jaffna and we had done our Higher Secondary together. We were close, real close. So I searched all my address books for her address. But I couldn't find any trace of it.In those days there were no cell phones and land lines were rare. Yet I don't remember replying to this letter.I cursed myself.

'Hi Kritika', she wrote and after enquiring about all our welfare, she continued,'remember I told you about my scientist brother? He used to continue his inventions even in hiding in spite of the war, the torture and the bloodshed all around us. 

Yesterday it was five days since he had come out of his room. So when I heard a noise I hid myself. He looked a sight with his unshaven face and ruffled hair.He locked the room, kept the key above the cupboard outside and went out. I knew that he would take his time and this was my chance. So I slipped the key and opened the door.

It was dark inside and I couldn't see a thing. But on looking again I found something darker inside. With my next step I tripped on something and fell. My face hit something hard and I tasted blood.My nose was stinging. I remembered a window and pulled the curtain.Light flooded in.

The dark object at the centre of the room was a combination of two computers. I had not seen a computer from this close so far so my hairs stood up.The key board was common to both the computers and looked like a snake and ladder board because of its multiple colours. However, from near it looked like a series of conveyor belts or rather like the red strip of crackers we used to burst using guns when we were small. Remember? with small tablet like bulges at the centre.

Outer to the computer on the left was a piano switch obviously pulled out from my brother's fan connection and he had not even bothered to replace it.I switched it on. Immediately 3 lights started winking.After a funny plane take off like noise, the necks of both  the computers elongated and fixed themselves in their respective stands.

The computer on the left had a mouth like  hole with a telegraph key- like tongue at the centre. It made some lip smacking sound and gesture.I was about to smash it but remembered just in time that it was only a machine.I tapped the tongue with the plastic key chain and some colours and designs began flashing across the screen from right to left. The blue, green and yellow lights formed  into a face moving forward and backwards alternately.

When it moved backwards its hands joined together in salutation,the way Indians do. When it moved forwards a hand seemed to come forward like in  the 3D movies and a voice said,'hello' .Was there a sly winking of the left eye?

I ran backwards but suddenly remembered the other computer and stooped  to see it. A part of the wooden framework of the left computer dismantled itself and like a robotic arm it switched on the other computer. The right computer burst into a cackle of laughter and moved slightly to face the left computer. Its bottom line swayed like a human  dancer swaying its hips in a Manipuri basket. Its screen showed one figure changing into many - and then changing back :or was I seeing wrong?

The first screen kept changing its colours and designs. I somehow had the impression that these two computers were communicating in a language I couldn't understand. The belts below the left screen had numbers but the belts below the right screen had letters and small words.  

When I touched a number on the left its screen showed some display in colours resembling that number while the right screen rolled and raced in a flash  of scenes I couldn't understand. Then I typed 'man' on the right. A bear like hairy man walked funnily with a huge stone club in hand, rotating it and playing like we do with our pencils.. A girl came running towards him. Soon he picked her up and threw her into the air, juggling her and the club alternately. He threw her some 5' into the air while the club went up some 3-3  1/2'.

The left screen kept asking me BC. With trembling hands I typed 'No'. Immediately it showed AD.The humans were round figures with just fingers and toes attached to the main body.Was it indicating muscle dis trophy due to disuse? I started giggling but stopped when I realised how difficult it must be. Then I noticed the 3000 on the left screen I had typed casually and  I understood.

 The right screen showed the images of objects as it would have been in the year the left screen depicted. Kritika, how long can you remain serious? I typed today's date on the left and Saleema on the right, just to check how accurate it could get. Will you believe it -a boy in jeans appeared on the screen and took my photo. How did  it guess my name? Where would he paste it? Neither did I want my brother to know that I had been there. I tried to hide my face. But the boy was persistent. Would he step out? The other computer seemed to be helping him. It was  waylaying me. I picked up a wooden scale from my brother's table at the side and noticing a worn out 'off' switch,pressed it with the scale using both hands.

Both the computers made a screeching noise and stopped angrily. The right computer's right hip was up and the left computer faded with an angry scowl.

I pulled back the curtains, locked the door, placed the key in place and ran to the safety of my room.
It still haunts me in my dreams, Kritika. That's why I'm sharing this story with you.At such times I wish you were with me. You'd know what to do.

With love to you and regards to your parents,
Saleema

I folded the letter and kept in my jewel box.But it haunted me too so much that I decided to share it with you,"my sister Kirtika told me.

But ,as you see, it's troubled me too so I'm sharing it here. Just in case it haunts you too, try sharing it.



     

  

Fighting Negative Thoughts, Pushing Forward

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Conducting a function
It seemed so real. The crowd was cheering wildly.But wilder still was a voice within me,"It's your imagination.Don't you know who you are?"
Here and there somebody was whistling. Kerchiefs were being waved madly.The crowd rose as I entered - in one big wave like moment. I climbed up the steps to the dais and  like Armstrong's famous steps went to the podium. Putting on a brave front I let my voice resonate.
 This was real. I was the voice of these people. I had  won the College elections fair and square - broken all records by a landslide victory. I had fulfilled the expectations of my College mates and perhaps gone even beyond  them with a year's success story behind me. Then what? Why should I listen to these useless voices which belied my senses. Those cruel words - 'Nobody will ever want to talk to you once they know the real you.'
 Certainly  I had not put on any act. This was my time to fight it out and I would....

The elections -
I remembered the elections. It lifted me beyond my expectations. I, who could never open my mouth before others and usually nodded whenever anybody asked me questions... I was pushed to victory.

We were in the Zoology lab, busily trying to complete the practicals for the semester when somebody came and announced that only Literature students were standing for the two main posts-one for the Chairperson and another for the Secretary and if we were careless they might end up being elected unanimously. One girl grabbed a form and entered my name. I saw stars. How could I ever explain that day and night I lived with butterflies in my stomach? That each and every day I had to fight the fear of rejection...
When I could't even live like a normal human being, where would I land as a leader? What did these people expect from me? I only had English as an extra qualification but what good was it here? I was dumb as anything. Couldn't  they already see it?
"But I don't know anything about anything,"I protested.

 "That doesn't matter at all," my supporter  said. "We'll tell you everything we want. You just translate it into English while talking to those girls. They'll laugh at our broken English if we try to tell them anything. But they can't laugh at you. You are thinking only about yourself. Look at it this way. You can make or mar the rights of 4 groups of students- Maths, History,Zoology and Botany. If those two Literature girls are elected leaders, they'll discuss matters among themselves and we'll be completely left out."

 What she said was true. These other girls  didn't have the courage even to talk to the English Literature girls. (and those Lit girls weren't overly bothered about anybody else). At least I smiled at everybody and said Hi and Bye to one or two of them.
That's how I ended up opening my mouth before each class (after being pushed in by my classmates) saying, "I'm standing for the post of Secretary. If elected I'll do my best." Finally it wasn't just the 4 groups, the Lit girls themselves had voted for me.

Making it work-

While the chairperson suggested different ideas, I as the Secretary saw to it that everyone benefited from it. Together we made a great team. Planned and worked out many activities. We had made a mark in the history of our College.

Have I then flushed out fear and hesitancy from my  sub-conscious mind? Even today I sometimes think that I should have acted differently (after a situation is over). But my College made me aware -  that I as a human being with equal rights , feelings and capacities as any other should not be cut out from normal life just because some people got a sadist kick  from what they said to me.
I also wish to tell others not to be a doormat to others with a sadist mentality.    

                                

Love - a garland of sacrifice or a lubricant in daily life?

"Keep your hand here and say, Promise." a little boy said
. "Promise," said the girl as she placed her hand in his."We will be friends all our lives,no matter what happens," he said.
"We will be friends all our lives,no matter what happens," she repeated solemnly.They looked into each other's faces and after being convinced that the other really meant it, they continued their walk home, the contents of their school bags  rattling on their backs.They must have both been around 6-7 years old.
(I remembered Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher's promise and how Tom gave himself away by his own words and stifled a smile.)

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To some, friendship is an easy thing. Helpful and then forgotten.Others take it seriously. Like the ancient story of
Damon and Pythias.

Pythias was accused of plotting against the ruler and was sentenced to death. When he asked for permission to bid farewell to his family, the ruler imprisoned Damon in his place, as a security. The day of execution arrived and Pythias was still missing. So the ruler was thinking of executing Damon instead. Pythias arrived  just in time, panting and he begged Damon's forgiveness for all the tension he must have caused him,explaining how he got delayed.
"But I wasn't tensed at all,"Damon said.Anyway it has to be one of us and the other has to struggle all alone. So what difference does it make, who is executed and who is set free?"...
Watching this kind of argument, the ruler was so impressed by their friendship that he set them both free.

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   "I lay down my life that you might have abundant life,"Jesus said .That sacrifice gives the cross its crown.

Now and again we see people jumping in to receive bullets meant for others or jumping into flood waters to throw others out.

But  more than the feel of doing something drastically heroic, those living ordinary lives, showing love everyday-an encouraging word, showing somebody a new perspective, accepting people  as they are and letting them be themselves, tolerating a loved one's emotional outburst  and letting them calm down and face life with new strength - that gentle wisdom, patience and supportive, unconditional love is truly the greatest love of all..

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At this moment of thought, my conscience  pins down my soul. A well wisher of mine had almost ignored her own needs and comforts to accompany me to places I most certainly couldn't have visited on my own. Places I dreamed of visiting for years together but which  would have been inaccessible without the required amount of humility - her humility. Today she lies in hospital with cancer (2nd stage) and I  haven't so much as even visited her!( I mean after she started radiation therapy). Postponing a visit just to have rest made me miss showing her the gratefulness I owe her. She's got shifted to a far off hospital for treatment. I can now only pray that angels should give her the help  and comfort she needs -specially till I see her.  .

                                                                                          

A walk through the memories of my college days

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I reached out  to plug my ears when the record from the public Auto stand suddenly blared, 'ABC, ne vaasi' (an old Tamil song which means,You learn your ABC if you  want but just leave me alone) and I couldn't help smiling, Let the auto people  celebrate Ayutha Pooja (a festival of tools and machines) as they please, I thought. I'd forgive them.

My mind raced back to our college days.With 9 of us sharing a room in the hostel, different groups needed different study patterns. Meena of English Literature would often say," ABC ne vaasi" and escape to chat with others.No records for her to complete, no tests and sometimes no classes even. 9 of us with 9 different backgrounds, different natures.Yet I don't remember a single serious quarrel.We'd go to the college together, had almost all our adventures together. On holidays or in the evenings we'd go for walks in the settings just meant for walks - long winding roads where we could follow newly married couples and comment about them among ourselves (perhaps some of my friends got ideas about how to enjoy  their future from these
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When we had more time we'd venture further off and then remember our time limit at the last minute. And then with an 'about turn' and a view of the nearest short-cut we'd run, skirts in hands, over ridges of radish and beet-root fields, leaping wherever required, till we reached the campus, squeeze through the fence if necessary and then,



with a cat like expression, we'd talk calmly to others.When the clock struck 6, we'd sometimes wonder whether it was really the clock or our heart beat because it sure sounded so loud. We'd wink among ourselves at our narrow escape and once within closed doors, laugh at the various observations  like ,'I'm  sure nobody was here till now. Where did you people suddenly appear from,'etc.




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  Now and then we'd take our books and announce to others that as the exams were nearing we were going to this and that spot to study. 'Study? They'd ask in surprise. How can you study at such a beautiful place?' "Why, where there is a will,there is a way,"we'd say calmly. And we sure did. For half an hour or an hour maybe. And then we'd call each other to play. After all life was for enjoying and if we missed this chance who knows when we'd get another? Moreover  if we had some play now our brains would work faster later. And then only some of us would go for higher studies, the others would get married after this degree and be loaded with tons of responsibilities, then what a waste of time it would be if they didn't enjoy life now,etc. So we didn't waste the 

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idyllic  settings either. After all it was really crowded near our houses, you know.

Suddenly my daughter says that she's hungry and I come out of my reverie.


I wonder if the poor girl will  ever know the thrill of adventure as we did then. Nowadays children may boldly accept  their situation and say,'Yes, I became late, so what? I didn't do it on purpose.' They might phone for a bike or an auto to pick them up.
Maybe I'm really old fashioned after all. Because I think that even the fear of adults or of order added to our fun as we used all kinds of tricks to escape them.

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Having an idea of your partner to be-right or wrong?

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"The parents are to blame. They got her engaged while she was still studying -doing her P.G. This guy used to phone her and bully her so much that she got disturbed and committed  suicide." My colleague's cheeks  went red in anger as she recollected the agony of her friend and mourned her loss.

"Yes,yes, speaking to one's fiance before marriage doesn't work out at all." Many voices had joined in by now. " I would never speak to my hubby before marriage," another young lady contributed. "Though he's my relative,whenever he phoned me I would hand over the phone to my mother immediately after greeting him."

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It was lunch time. Perhaps hunger added to their passion. After the buzz of voices subsided, I added feebly,"But what would you say of my friend (she's severely handicapped by polio). She got a job through  the quota for the handicapped.As she was way past 30 by then, her mother was keen to see her married (her father had expired when she was a child). The broker suggested a bridegroom for her.Her mother being illiterate and relatives non-existent, the lady used to speak to her prospective bridegroom herself.As they planned for their future, he would often say, "You're a teacher, you'll speak like that. After all I'm only a driver." Being handicapped, she thought she couldn't expect much and so ought to make do with whatever she got. However she finally called it off. Today she's happily married  to a better person and has a son.





Being involved in the situation she saved herself from a threatening future.

Another man I know( who didn't have suitable relatives to do the required research) married a highly incompatible wife and after 6 miserable years, got separated, ending up as a pauper.Had he just spoken 3 sentences with her  before his marriage, he would  surely have found it out.(He found it out on the wedding stage but just after the ceremony).

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My colleagues could only look at me with a smile that meant, 'these English speaking teachers and their ways!' So what if I read or speak English? I am as Indian (Tamilian) as anybody else.I fully appreciate our sense of lifelong commitment where our people's mind is set that they're  marrying for better or worse and so they are prepared to solve any  problem in a way suitable to all. There is a mature understanding in families that marriage is a 'give and take' procedure and in most cases relatives involved in the matching process have an idea of the bride or groom's basic expectations.

That poor girl should have told her parents her problem.Surely suicide is not  the answer  and not at all necessary. And engagement is different from marriage anyway.

Beyond that of course  marriage is a gamble but then so also is life. Then why was I singled out? Did I go wrong anywhere? I wish I get someone to stand-up for me. Will you?

P.S- I get tickled to think that while trying to make sure young couples ( who do not have suitable relatives to guarantee  compatibility) should conduct some tests themselves, I was the oldest of the lot asking for a  bit of romance to boost the young couples' lives.

                                                                                                                                      

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Smuggling Praise, Pity and What-not through the Workplace

Smuggling Praise-

Many years ago, the Reader's Digest had an
 interesting article on a circus. Satya and Guru were two working elephants,who had to push the caravans from behind now and then. Suddenly Satya  seemed to be losing weight rapidly  while Guru was happily putting on weight.Even the vet couldn't find out what it was. Satya worked quietly while Guru pushed with all his might, perhaps to make up for Satya. At last Murli the mahout (elephant trainer) found out. Guru was only acting, making a big noise while Satya was working for both.

.If an elephant could use its brains to cheat, can man be far behind?



Once as I was distributing answer papers of the Quarterly Exams, I noticed that a clever girl had got an easy answer wrong." Why didn't you tell me,Lata?" I asked her."I would have taught you."

"But you didn't come to our exam hall, Miss,"the girl by her side replied. "You went to another hall the other side."

Nowadays its becoming important in child politics to find out earlier which teacher is alloted  which hall for which exam. And you should see the celebration! They even ignore calls of, "bring your books  and come, I'll show you an easy way to score marks."

Smuggling Pity-


One day as I was sitting in a standing bus, a young girl handed us leaflets of, 'we're from another state,we don't get jobs here because we don't know the local language.' As she came near me and stretched out her palm, I rose from my seat and said in her native language,
 "How long will you keep giving us this excuse? Come, my shop is nearby. I'll give you a job." She sped to the door handle using it like a pole- the way school girls do while  playing Kho-Kho  and with an amused giggle at me, jumped down. I never saw her after that. Beggary and creative beggary.
                                                                                                       www.free digital photos.net
  Others-                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
Then there are those impressive people who sport the latest fashion  and move about in cars of the latest designs  but with  no  livelihood.They know how to hover around people like wild dogs, leaches or vultures and get gifts -  big or small.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          




But perhaps the most sophisticated are those who slip through  modern times adding to their scores, while   numerical slow-wits like me can't even remember how many zeroes in the digits are called by what name.
I only know that those are enoooooooooormous amounts.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             www.free digital photos.net
Have I left out any situation that you, Readers would like to fill? Please do

Mirror,Mirror - my Companion (poem)

Mirror, mirror in my washroom
my first  companion
in the morning
to greet me,
to look into my eyes-
and tell me
all that I need to know
and  be reassured
about myself.

Mirror, mirror in my room
Whom I look at
Every  morning
While dressing
Preparing to face the world
To send them a message
Loud and clear
What I feel
About myself
And the world
.


Mirror,mirror my companion
With whom I grew
all these years
Do you love me
So much that
You didn't want me hurt?
Only the photos
Revealed the truth
Of my age
And the bulges.

Yet, mirror, mirror
My companion :
In place of
The original tale
Of mother vs daughter where
 The mother burned in anger
 I shall,on seeing
Photos of my clone
 Beside me
Glow with pride

N.B- In the famous fairy tale,Snow White and the seven dwarfs, the step-mother was so jealous of Snow White that she ordered her killed. Only the kindness of others, particularly that of 7 dwarfs (little men) helps her.


                                   photos : google