Once upon a time, I used to get angry with everything.
With how I failed, My failures, My attempts at success — Which resulted in nothing but failure.
And then, there was my mother. Who showed me the mirror.
That it was not the failure I hated, But my laziness.
My non-hard work. My waiting — For results, Without doing the hard work.
That was the main reason I failed. Which I knew… maybe somewhere inside. And then — She showed me the truth.
The books I tore — Because I felt they were not helping. Or maybe… I knew deep inside I never studied them properly.
But when I woke up the next day, I found the book taped together — Still having the scar, But still intact, Just like mother’s heart.
I am sorry, mother.
I will surely become the best version of myself.
Even better than the version You show me in the mirror.
My mother is the mirror who shows me all the flaws that I am aware of and I hide , but not to shame me but to improve myself .
However this is something which many of us do not realise in this short , fleeting life.