The "Soul" Mirror

The bladder had reached the point of bursting. Throwing the bag on the desk, made way - literally, by pushing people around - towards the washroom. The dhar was rapid and yellow and the pleasure immense. After the due process of washing the hands was done, the eye went to the beautiful face.

My Jewel in the Crown. My Crowning Achievement. My Raison d'etre.

Oh my God !!!

So many hairs out of alignment. Streaky charred black lines running here and there on the cheeks. How will I work through the day with my confidence drained on account of these hideous disfigurations.

All the bloody work that is going on the roads. Metros, Broadenings, Flyovers and God knows what all else s**t.

So I put my hand below the faucet again, wetting it just enough and then slowly run it through my hair to settle all the chaos down.

Yeah. That’s it.

I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears. The mirror me was speaking.

Oh yeah. That’s it.

It felt good. The hair being settled, I turned my attention to the streaky lines.

Yes. That’s the one.

The hands below the faucet again, wetted just enough again and the lines are erased out of existence one at a time.

Done and dusted, I looked fabulous again.

Oh yes. That’s The ONE.

I gave a crooked smile. My confidence was restored. Time to win over the day again.