Short story
Azizul Hakim(Murshidabad)
The Mirror of Life : I was walking along the veranda of a mysterious prehistoric house. After walking for a little while, I saw a large, solitary room with seven mirrors. Each mirror was hanging on the wall. Each was adorned with intricate designs. I stepped in front of the first mirror and stood there. I was utterly shocked. In that mirror I saw myself as horribly, grotesquely ugly. But I’ve never been that hideous! It irritated me deeply. Still I slowly moved to stand before the second mirror. There I appeared extremely mad. I was a bit surprised. I’m not so mad! I’ve never found any trace of insanity within myself. Disheartened I moved on to the third mirror. In it I looked like a frenzied, ferocious beast. Seeing myself, I grew terrified. I fled from there. Running away I stood before another mirror. There I appeared like an innocent child. Suddenly curiosity sparked within me. A strong urge arose to see the next mirror. Step by step I walked to the next one and gazed into it. That mirror reflected me as wise and self-confident. My curiosity grew even more. I stepped in front of the next mirror. There I saw myself as a brave warrior. I became very pleased. My heart was satisfied with great merriment. Just like that to find myself I went and stood in front of the final mirror. I turned this way and that, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of my reflection. But I couldn’t find any trace of mine. It felt a mystical light was calling me from within the darkness and I was dissolving into it. A question arose in my mind— Who am I? Where am I?
