Shards of poetic glass

Her mirror showed her what she was- “Lama Puri”, an acclaimed poet of all times. Her mirror flaunted what she was, showing her presence and present life. But what showed up in her real Conscience mirror was different.

“What is different?” asked she to her inner mirror.

Her Conscience spoke.

She was born to a middle class family, where studies was the only support for the children to grow. She was a hardworking girl and passed every level with distinction. There was another girl, her friend who was younger by 5 years, but they could strike a good conversation and especially discuss poems.  She finished her master degree when her friend was in her twelfth boards.

She got a lucrative job, while her friend had ran into a deep financial trouble. She had no money to pay her examination fees. She approached Lama and asked her for help. Now Lama had money, but she did not want to support her friend. She had reasons. Now, without any support, her friend could not complete the boards.

The reason was obvious. The dark side of Lama knew this girl would become a better poet than her. Now in her reflection after many years, she kept falling in her own eyes.

The poetic glass was broken into shards of pieces piercing her heart.

Now, after a few days, she got an opportunity to meet a well renounced foreign poet- with her Pen name- “Anjali pens.”

She was international poet with a pseudonym. Not many people had seen her. Now Lama had the opportunity, but while reading her poems she felt something was familiar, like the line of thought, but she could not gather from where she had seen such a frame of mind.

Next day, she was waiting in the Restaurant to meet “Anjali pens.”

Just then the lady walked over, she was smiling and her smile was very much familiar,

“ Janu!” cried Lama.

“ Yes, Lama its me!!”

“ Are you…” stopped Lama.

“ Yes I am the poet.”

“ I could not complete my education, but I did informal studies and soon it was recognized and I flew out of the country. Now I am a post graduate in Literature. Nice to see you after a long while.”

“ Sorry.. I am sorry, you don’t know how worse I felt ..”

Janu said, “ Well, some things don’t happen right. But I reached my destination, I don’t complain.

Lama said, “ Can I tell you something?”

Janu nodded.

“ You are the best poet, whom I have been following for years,… I happened to learn a lot from you and yet to… Happy for you..”