Mirror. Yes. He kept on staring at that little piece of glass. It showed him his face. That's all. Nothing else. Nothing other than this face he has, which everyone gets to see.
He kept on staring at the mirror. He had good eyes, well, atleast he though he did. He had hair, dirty, dry, which gave it a brown tinge. He had freckles. He had little amount of hair on his face, not really passable as beard. He had brown lips. What else? Anymore observation to be done? Naah, none he could see anymore.
"Breakfast's ready, come down quickly." He observed his mother at the door.
"Coming maa, just a sec." He froze. That wasn't him who said. It was the boy in the mirror.
"Okay." His mother went away nonchalantly.
He must have seen wrong. It was he himself who did the talking, without even realising. Yes, that's it. All the late night online chats have started to screw up his brains. That's the thing. Cummon', people inside the mirror don't talk.
He went downstairs. He had the mirror with him. Breakfast, a part of the typical life of a man. Why couldn't they call it "Sigmund Freud", or maybe "Swansong" maybe? Why "breakfast", out of all the words in the world? No answer. Whatever, he sat down for the usual toast and omlette and the rest of the shitty food.
"The food's great, Maa. Thanks for all of this." Okay, now he was getting freaked out. This, surely wasn't him talking. It was the boy in the mirror. He never said anything of this sort to his mother, even though he knew she'd really like to hear it.
His mother seemed amazed too. "Why, thank you dear! It's a pleasure when good food is appreciated."
"Thanks for everything, maa. Thanks for being there always." Oh my! This shouldn't be happening. He had an image to maintain.
"It's okay." He's mother was too amazed to say anything else.
"Maa, was I just talking now?"
"Yes, who else would be doing the talking?"
"Maane, you saw my lips move?"
"Darling, are you alright?" Clearly, his mother found this mysterious now.
"Err, yeah maa, fine!" He got up, "I'll go, get ready for school" The plate was empty.
"Dude, who the fuck are you, and why, rather how, are you talking?" He asked the mirror. No reply. Strange, it had something to say to others, but not to him? Irritating. He started to get ready for school.
Moneybag. Check. ID card. Check. Tiffin. Check. He went ahead. He didn't realise, he was carrying the mirror.
School.
Now he wasn't exactly the popular guy in the class, so most kids stayed away from him, except his last bench gang. That's where he went and sat. Rest of the guys were there already.
" Hey man, you don't look right. Anything wrong?"
" Huhn? N-n-no. Everything's fine. Didn't sleep well last night, that's all" He stammered. He checked himself in the mirror. He was looking tensed.
"Why, in the name of *insert name of any famous pornstar here* are you carrying a mirror"
"Err, I like this mirror, It's kinda cool." He lied. This was a regular, normal handmirror, and he didn't like this mirror.And as time was passing, the dislike was growing.
First class.
Economics. Not one of the classes he particularly enjoyed. He'd rather sit insie the boys toilet, sniffing glue maybe. But he had to attend this class, attendance reasons.
Today, the old hag of a teacher was teaching something on the history of agriculture in *enter name of state*. He was shit interested.
"Now, can anyone tell me, how exactly did the political transformation affect the agricultural relations?"
Most of the first benchers raised their hands. Usual crappy answers.
He didn't even realise when he had raised his hand. The teacher seemed amazed to see a last bencher attempt for an answer.
"Yes, tell me"
"Well ma'am, you see, the political transformation actually took place because of the unrest among the poor farmers, so when the *so-and-so* poitical party actually decided to contest the elections, they already had the mass on their sides. Shouldn't we first observe what reasons led to the change in the mind of the poor, than go to straight to some acts passed by the government just to marginally satisfy the needs of the people."
"I would be glad if you kept those questions for your political science classes, we, are studying economics here."
"Ma'am, all of these are linked, so it'd better if all of it came together to us."
"Enough. Anyone else can give the answer, minus all this political glorification?"
"And this is how you paln to make us educated, ma'am?"
"Get out of my class, now."
He knew arguing was useless, he went for the door, cursing the mirror.
"Fuck you." Shit, that mirror should not have said that.
"What??"
"Ma'am, ma'am, I didn't say that, it wasn't me."
"Enough. Tell your parents to come to me tomorrow."
Deep shit. He's in for some trouble.
Bell rings, period over.
"Dude, you just nailed that woman, man!" "Awesome work man." "Are you fuckin' out of your mind? Keu bole teacher ke oshob? Tui pagol hoyechhis?"
He kept quiet. He had nothing to say.
The morning showed the day. The whole time in school was shit. He argued in the english and psychology classes too. He fought with one of his friends. He proposed that cute girl from the senior classes. And he advised the janitor to write a big "Fuck you" in the dining hall so all the teachers and students could see it.
He screwed up his school life, in one day.
"What exactly were you thinking, when you said that to the teacher?" He's father asked. He'd received the call from school.
"She had it coming baba." Why the hell can't that mirror stay quiet? It had messed up enough already.
"Hmm. No dinner for you tonight."
" Oh yeah? No prob. All you have to offer anyway comes from those shitty lies of yours. The money you take from people, just so that you lie for them, maybe better than some other guy"
He had that slap coming. His mother stood there, observing quietly.
"Did you see his audacity? Did you just see what you've made of your son? A monster!"
"Achha? I rather see him just saying the truths no one else dares to say."
"Oh please, shut up. Don't start all of this again. As for you, you little devil, go upstairs. Go and think what you did."
He went for the stairs, but before that, he gave his father the finger. The mirror was affecting his actions now. As for the man, he was way too amazed to even beat the shit out of him.
"You, you little piece of shit. You have ruined enough of my life. Before today, I was a normal, average teenager. Not the type to be noticed, not the type to be given the attention to. And for you, I'm a delinquient in the eyes of my parents and the school, and a hero for my friends. You just made me do all of the things I never wanted to." He was angry, and he shouted at the mirror. He kept on blabbing. The mirror was quiet. He just saw the himself. Shouting at him. The mirror was quiet. It had no voice for him.
Enough! He hit the mirror hard, trying to break it.
And there he was, staring at that little piece of glass. It showed him his face. That's all. Nothing else. Nothing other than this face he had, which everyone got to see, till today.
He kept on staring at the mirror. He had good eyes, well, atleast he though he did. He had hair, dirty, dry, which gave it a brown tinge. He had freckles. He had little amount of hair on his face, not really passable as beard. He had brown lips. What else? Anymore observation to be done? Naah, none he could see anymore.
"Breakfast's ready, come down quickly." He observed his mother at the door.
"Coming maa, just a sec." He froze. That wasn't him who said. It was the boy in the mirror.
"Okay." His mother went away nonchalantly.
He must have seen wrong. It was he himself who did the talking, without even realising. Yes, that's it. All the late night online chats have started to screw up his brains. That's the thing. Cummon', people inside the mirror don't talk.
He went downstairs. He had the mirror with him. Breakfast, a part of the typical life of a man. Why couldn't they call it "Sigmund Freud", or maybe "Swansong" maybe? Why "breakfast", out of all the words in the world? No answer. Whatever, he sat down for the usual toast and omlette and the rest of the shitty food.
"The food's great, Maa. Thanks for all of this." Okay, now he was getting freaked out. This, surely wasn't him talking. It was the boy in the mirror. He never said anything of this sort to his mother, even though he knew she'd really like to hear it.
His mother seemed amazed too. "Why, thank you dear! It's a pleasure when good food is appreciated."
"Thanks for everything, maa. Thanks for being there always." Oh my! This shouldn't be happening. He had an image to maintain.
"It's okay." He's mother was too amazed to say anything else.
"Maa, was I just talking now?"
"Yes, who else would be doing the talking?"
"Maane, you saw my lips move?"
"Darling, are you alright?" Clearly, his mother found this mysterious now.
"Err, yeah maa, fine!" He got up, "I'll go, get ready for school" The plate was empty.
"Dude, who the fuck are you, and why, rather how, are you talking?" He asked the mirror. No reply. Strange, it had something to say to others, but not to him? Irritating. He started to get ready for school.
Moneybag. Check. ID card. Check. Tiffin. Check. He went ahead. He didn't realise, he was carrying the mirror.
School.
Now he wasn't exactly the popular guy in the class, so most kids stayed away from him, except his last bench gang. That's where he went and sat. Rest of the guys were there already.
" Hey man, you don't look right. Anything wrong?"
" Huhn? N-n-no. Everything's fine. Didn't sleep well last night, that's all" He stammered. He checked himself in the mirror. He was looking tensed.
"Why, in the name of *insert name of any famous pornstar here* are you carrying a mirror"
"Err, I like this mirror, It's kinda cool." He lied. This was a regular, normal handmirror, and he didn't like this mirror.And as time was passing, the dislike was growing.
First class.
Economics. Not one of the classes he particularly enjoyed. He'd rather sit insie the boys toilet, sniffing glue maybe. But he had to attend this class, attendance reasons.
Today, the old hag of a teacher was teaching something on the history of agriculture in *enter name of state*. He was shit interested.
"Now, can anyone tell me, how exactly did the political transformation affect the agricultural relations?"
Most of the first benchers raised their hands. Usual crappy answers.
He didn't even realise when he had raised his hand. The teacher seemed amazed to see a last bencher attempt for an answer.
"Yes, tell me"
"Well ma'am, you see, the political transformation actually took place because of the unrest among the poor farmers, so when the *so-and-so* poitical party actually decided to contest the elections, they already had the mass on their sides. Shouldn't we first observe what reasons led to the change in the mind of the poor, than go to straight to some acts passed by the government just to marginally satisfy the needs of the people."
"I would be glad if you kept those questions for your political science classes, we, are studying economics here."
"Ma'am, all of these are linked, so it'd better if all of it came together to us."
"Enough. Anyone else can give the answer, minus all this political glorification?"
"And this is how you paln to make us educated, ma'am?"
"Get out of my class, now."
He knew arguing was useless, he went for the door, cursing the mirror.
"Fuck you." Shit, that mirror should not have said that.
"What??"
"Ma'am, ma'am, I didn't say that, it wasn't me."
"Enough. Tell your parents to come to me tomorrow."
Deep shit. He's in for some trouble.
Bell rings, period over.
"Dude, you just nailed that woman, man!" "Awesome work man." "Are you fuckin' out of your mind? Keu bole teacher ke oshob? Tui pagol hoyechhis?"
He kept quiet. He had nothing to say.
The morning showed the day. The whole time in school was shit. He argued in the english and psychology classes too. He fought with one of his friends. He proposed that cute girl from the senior classes. And he advised the janitor to write a big "Fuck you" in the dining hall so all the teachers and students could see it.
He screwed up his school life, in one day.
"What exactly were you thinking, when you said that to the teacher?" He's father asked. He'd received the call from school.
"She had it coming baba." Why the hell can't that mirror stay quiet? It had messed up enough already.
"Hmm. No dinner for you tonight."
" Oh yeah? No prob. All you have to offer anyway comes from those shitty lies of yours. The money you take from people, just so that you lie for them, maybe better than some other guy"
He had that slap coming. His mother stood there, observing quietly.
"Did you see his audacity? Did you just see what you've made of your son? A monster!"
"Achha? I rather see him just saying the truths no one else dares to say."
"Oh please, shut up. Don't start all of this again. As for you, you little devil, go upstairs. Go and think what you did."
He went for the stairs, but before that, he gave his father the finger. The mirror was affecting his actions now. As for the man, he was way too amazed to even beat the shit out of him.
"You, you little piece of shit. You have ruined enough of my life. Before today, I was a normal, average teenager. Not the type to be noticed, not the type to be given the attention to. And for you, I'm a delinquient in the eyes of my parents and the school, and a hero for my friends. You just made me do all of the things I never wanted to." He was angry, and he shouted at the mirror. He kept on blabbing. The mirror was quiet. He just saw the himself. Shouting at him. The mirror was quiet. It had no voice for him.
Enough! He hit the mirror hard, trying to break it.
And there he was, staring at that little piece of glass. It showed him his face. That's all. Nothing else. Nothing other than this face he had, which everyone got to see, till today.
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