It is a lazy Sunday morning with the bright sun occupying the sky. The mirror hanging on the wall dazzles. The 50 year old me, decides to check her face for the possible reduction in the pink blemishes and lines of premature wrinkles. Sadly, as expected none of it has vanished from my face and honestly I don’t know whether anything has reduced at all. Then, I chance upon my tired eyes that is still smiling to stay optimistic. I take a deeper look at them.
The eyes, that look out for the dear ones in need of favor and help. The eyes, that tries to hide sadness and helplessness, so that the dear ones are not disturbed. The eyes that have learned to ignore the worst in people. The eyes that haven’t closed in the night, thinking about ways to better the lives of kith and kin. The eyes that continue to see everyone with love and affection.
It is at this moment that I decide, that my wrinkles and blemishes do not hold any significance. I have loved and cared immensely, that is what really matters, that is my strength. My love for others is a gift to myself as well.
I go on to find my diary, to document how my love for others is empowering me.