Why this blog?

The nascent and fresh minds of students are so creatively inclined that they have the ability to bring into being a universe of their own. They are little tyros who would, with time, unfold into verves, momentum or sensations of various creative dimensions. A chalk sculptor, a clay artist, an amateur painter of Madhubani, Warli, a dabbler of still life, a budding poet, a tenderfoot writer or a fledgling lyricist – one gets all varieties of creatively-aligned students covered in a seemingly dilettantish peel. We at Shishukunj aspire to provide a humble platform to all such potentials to smatter around and mature into the perfection that they are seeking to epitomize or become! This blog is thus an endeavor that would allow all Shishyans to just play around with their latent artistic caliber and enjoy the bliss of a “BRAVO” from known and unknown quarters.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Girl in the Mirror

Anushka Gupta, Class X F

It was my summer vacation. I was staying with my grandparents in the village. One day, I woke up very early in the morning to a noise of something being hit against the wall of my room. I first tried to ignore the sound and go back to my beautiful sleep, but the noise kept getting louder.
Irritated, I huffed and went to the balcony to see what it was all about. It was a windy day and I realized that the sound was caused by an unlatched door that was opening and closing violently due to the wind.
How come I’d never noticed this door before? I thought as I started walking towards it. once I went over, I saw that the door opened to a room which was completely dark. Curiosity consumed me as I went in and switched on the small lamp kept near the entrance.
In the centre of the room was something like a portrait. It was very large and was draped with a thick black cloth. I slightly lifted it to see what it was. It was not a painting. It was a mirror. It was all the more odd because my grandparents, for some strange reason that they never told me, didn’t have a single mirror in the house. Both my grandparents claimed to detest mirrors, which was again very peculiar as they both were blind.
I tugged at the black cloth. It fell to reveal a large mirror with a beautiful copper border with intricate designs. I found myself staring at my reflection. My face was lit up by the faint glow of the lamp.
I stood there for a minute, staring at my reflection. Something about it was so uncanny that I felt a chill run through my spine. Then I realized that the reflection possessed eyes that were a shade darker than mine, and there was a sly smile, almost imperceptible, on its face. I was certain that it was not mine. I definitely wasn’t smiling.
Then, before I could move, the reflection shot out her hand from the mirror and its chilly fingers grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.
‘Well, well, well…. Look who we have here. Aren’t you that old witch’s granddaughter? Hmm… it’s been a while. That woman was one stubborn witch. Now, let me ask you a question, thrice. Do you want to go back?’
I nodded fervently, too afraid to let words spill out of my mouth.
‘Well, for that, you’ll have to give me your eyes. Only then will I set you free. Else, you will be stuck in this mirror forever.’ She smiled as she saw my eyes widen.
‘No, you can’t do that.’ I stammered.
‘I ask you the second time’, she said, ‘give me your eyes.’
No! I shook my head.
‘Okay, last time. Give me your eyes.’
‘You can’t do this to me!’ I screamed, ‘Help!’
She smiled as she slid out of the mirror into the normal world.
‘Have fun, reflection,’ she winked at me and I felt my eye winked too. She dropped the black cloth over the mirror and everything around me went pitch black.

My grandmother’s words echoed in my ears as I felt my tears stream down my face. ‘When freedom is at stake, go blind to get it back.’ I now realized what she meant and continued to weep. Forever….

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