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ISSN: 0974-892X


January, 2022



Through the Looking Glass

Shobha  Diwakar


I stood before the mirror
And asked it jovially
What it did staring at faces
What it thought of me?
Staring at me quizzically
It merrily chuckled and said,
“First tell me what you think of yourself?”
Slightly puzzled by the retort,
I thought awhile and snapped,
“Let me think where to begin
And then I’ll launch in.”
I kept staring at the mirror
Then asked it frankly
If I could walk through it and ponder
Over what I wished to reveal
As it nodded and basked awhile
I crossed through it and smiled
For all the years of trouble I took
To look beyond the miles
Old faces saw I through the mirror
Faces I loved and adored
Whether at home

And school and college
As the years tore
The grasslands green
The conscience clean
All those whom I adored
Were looking through their
Own clear glasses
Their reflections galore
They loved and lost
All their dear ones
Sometime long ago
To be with them was all they cared
And so
They travelled remote
I joined them on their way
To reflect upon the past
And as I moved away
From the looking glass
I found myself strolling freely
On the outside grass