Broken Mirror

giving a voice to the oppressed

   Shards of glass, from a broken mirror, laid scattered around her. The cuts in her knuckles left her with pinches of discomfort, but mostly, regret. She sat on the cold, damp floor with her head between her knees, over shadowed by the darkness of inner demons. All their words kept replaying in her mind; each feeling like a stab to the heart and nourishment to the growing self-hate. She remembered the day; the boys mocked her feminine clothes and the tiny ragged doll she clenched tightly in her little fists. When she finally made it to college in her late teens, she was derided for wearing a crimson shaded lipstick on the very first day; and so, like a delicate rose crushed by the weight of a strangers step, she sat in an isolated corner with no friends and an abandoned dignity. She remembered it all. The memories replayed themselves over and over.  

   Life in the real world became worse. Her educational achievements were never appreciated. The most she could land with was a job as a tailor's assistant, at a shop resting in the untouched part of Karachi. Customers sneered and ridiculed the owner for hiring such a blasphemy, business was lost to a pool of ignorance; so she ended up on the streets of the city that gave her nothing but misery. Her education was never approved, nor was she. She didn't know who she was anymore. In her youth, she saw herself earning a decent living with the degree she held; a degree that sat on a shelf, filled with the dust of forgotten dreams. It was of no use to ‘someone like her'. To society, this person was a joke. She found others like her, living in the darkness of this, ‘City of Lights'. The job she found was associated with illegal means and the taste of a night life. Work was needed to meet ends, and if the world saw her as nothing but a social pariah, she decided to live with that label; a label that gave her nothing but abuse, pain, and degradation. 

   The cuts and bruises on her body came together like a distorted map with each road leading to a memory of the worse kind of customer she experienced. The constant shame rang like bells in her head. With the incessant ringing in her head, she got up from the floor and collected the larger pieces of the glass. She approached the broken mirror and tried fitting in whatever piece she could find with some glue.  It took her a while to repair the broken mirror, but it still had pieces missing and irreparable cracks. All she saw was her twisted reflection.

    Suddenly her eyes caught a glimpse of a photograph dangling helplessly in between the mirror's glass and its hazel colored border. She held the wrinkled photograph, delicately between her fingers. It was a dated photograph of a little boy shielding himself from the summer sun with the help of books. A school bag seemed to weigh his tiny body down, but he still managed to crack a toothy crooked smile in this photograph. The girl recognized this little boy smiles and the brightness in his eyes. She looked into the broken mirror and noticed the brightness had faded away. The sun's rays peeked through the holes of curtain's cloth as dawn approached. The light rays gently touched her back and continued to illuminate her body as she removed her wig and rubbed the mascara smudges from her cheeks. As she continued to stare into the broken mirror, she finally managed to crack the same toothy crooked smile.   

Author's Note

the treatment of transgenders in Pakistan is horrifying. Many are pushed towards begging on the street or prostitution. Various NGO's and welfare groups however, work towards giving them a better and respectable life.
( for some weird reason the font keeps changing itself every time I try to edit it
please try ignoring it)
hope you enjoy :)

Reviews

[.]

Wow, Pia! A very deep story!

I suspect this is a fictional piece with a realistic slant?
Whatever your angle this is an extremely well written and emotional piece of writing.

You have deftly described the emotional turmoil that your character has gone through in life; the rejection, isolation, degradation and loss of self worth inflicted on her by the remnants of a strict society. One cannot help but feel sorrow for this character you have created and that in the end you can give her reason to smile, despite all her woes, is the mark of a quality writer.

I enjoyed this story very much. For the fiction it is and the realism that it is grounded in. You are quite the social justice warrior, Pia. Words are your pathway to change. Very well done.

[pia]

thank you so much for such a nice analysis !!

[augustus]

A sad story and one which could reflect society today. Prostitution is rife today and many women take to it with gay abandon. Even the most respectable women living in suburbia take on many boy friends to have clandestine sex while husbands are at work. One could say it's a kind of therapy!

[Abraham Kureshi]

Very powerful and deeply written. Thank you for sharing such an amazing piece of writing!

[pia]

thank you!!

[ZakLeonRamsey]

This is interesting how you write this wonderfully, but sad because of the topic. I find this rather horrifying at the same time, because transgenders in Pakistan shouldn't be treated like this, but I am glad groups of welfare etc. work on that, because they deserve equality, as they should, like everybody else in Pakistan. I like the length of the story because I review more than like five people in a day and their poems and stories. I like the length of the story because it is not too short and not too long. This is really good, I think you should carry on writing things related to the truth, and express what happens because before I had clicked on this story, I didn't know transgender Pakistanis were treated like this, and I find this rather horrifying. Now I know about this. This topic is really going to stay in my head for a while. Sure, this quite an uncomfortable topic to speak about with many, but your words kind of lighten up this, the tiniest bit though, as this is not a positive subject. Wow, I feel sorry for those people being treated like this. It makes me wonder why they would do such a thing. I learn something new everyday and this is something new for me to look at and sigh, ashamed of the sad truth. I'm giving this a 100/100.

[pia]

Thank you so much !!
Also recently things are slowly improving here in pakistan for this community. They have their owm gender recognised on ID cards and passports. Its still pretty bad their situation but i feel change will come slowly

[ZakLeonRamsey]

Okay that’s good :)

[Richard McLin]

Damn, a very short story, and yet many many layers of depth. This is a very powerful piece, and that I think really shows off your talent. This is a great piece, and one that I think is even more important in this day and age. Great job.
-Richard

[pia]

Thabk you so much

[Karmee]

So very well written, love the imagery and descriptiveness through out

[pia]

Thank you so much

[Kimiko Watson]

This was worth reading. I am patiently waiting for more. It is sad that society refuses to accept us for who we are. It is our diversity that makes up humanity.

[pia]

Thank you so much

[conversations with her ..]

pia pia pia.... you've wowed me!

im so glad i found you, i write short stories too and i really enjoyed reading this. you gave me so much inspiration

I'm new on here, so it would be an honour if you could review some of my poems!

[pia]

Thank you so much

[Shabeeh Haider]

A brilliant write. It might be a piece of fiction but can be the real life story of any transgender forced to beg on the city streets and having to put up with taunts and slurs.

[pia]

Thank you so much

[barleygirl]

This is brilliantly written in so many ways. First, it's a gentle & understanding viewpoint coming thru and secondly, it's fierce & intense imagery used as symbols. The broken mirror being put back together is well-detailed & a perfect symbol to show how it can feel to spend so much of one's life feeling broken & then finally finding a way to put the pieces back together. Transgenders in the USA are still much maligned, but not as bad as what you describe. I love the song "Lucky" by Pharrell Williams: "We've come too far to give up who we are!" (one of my theme songs!) This is written like poetry, as much as prose. (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[pia]

THANK YOU SO MUCH !!

[Joey Nizz]

This is such a remarkable story Pia, it is sad that some people do feel shattered and broken like a rusty mirror... and no one is there for them to pick up the pieces.

This was such a great read, thank you Pia, thank you for writing and sharing it.

[pia]

Thank you so much !!

[Joey Nizz]

Your welcome.