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The Looking Glass


Photo by Anders Jildén


A lot of me is because of a beautiful night I once saw on an evening in Coimbatore. There was a blackout as usual and to escape the mosquitoes I ran to the terrace. The terrace was lit. It didn't strike me at first. As I stand there wondering where the light was coming from, the red moon rises from the East. It was really late even for the moon and I sat there under it's mellow light for the night. At 3 am I had an epiphany. I wished to pen down my excitement. Now came my dilemma, my vocabulary was extremely poor, horrible spelling and a sense of grammar that made kinder garden students look like champions. But I penned it down non the less. 

It's been 6 years, I am better off today. With a great deal of help from people I met across years I was able to bootstrap a decent amount of vocab, spelling and grammar. But every time I see a full moon I am immediately transported back to that dark moon lit night in Coimbatore and I am writing again.

I see through my looking Glass,
A boy just out of college,
Curiously looking for something,
Though he doesn't know what.

I see through my looking Glass,
An eagar soul with vigor,
Eager to create something,
Eager for a challenge

I see through my looking Glass,
The eyes of determination,
A deep fire, fragile yet strong,
Searching for that chance.

I see through my looking Glass,
The dreams of young mature,
Goals born from them,
A man grearing to chase.

Over the years I notice,
The looking Glass has always been,
Over the years I see,
He is always gazing at the sky.

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