Stranger in my broken mirror

Stranger in my broken mirror

It is nearly impossible to say that I had a wonderful childhood! Atleast you should not ask me on this if you want to hear some positive news! But yes, you may find quite encouraging answers if you ask my parents or anyone who knew me back then. They will straight away start telling stories about a little boy who could never stop smiling and whose mere existence caused many others a reason to smile. As they say the little boy was like a Christmas gift in their endless winter. Now whenever I listen to these mesmerizing stories I wonder who the hell this boy was!! It could be anyone but me! I don’t know him at all. Or at least I try to pretend not knowing him. Cause here is the paradox; if I admit to myself that he is ‘me’, then I don’t know the man who now stands before me in the mirror.

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