Mirror mirror on the wall

One wall in my bedroom is host to one of the most entertaining mirror I have ever had. It reminds me of the days when the most interesting outing of the year used to be to the Annual Arts and Crafts Exhibition.
I lived in Hyderabad as a kid and all the four of us used to ride astride a Bajaj Chetak scooter to the Nampally grounds every year to this exhibition. It was something that we used to wait for with excitement soaring. And it never failed to appease. The chilli bajji(of which I used to eat the bajji part and my dad the chilli part), the camel rides (which I only used to stand to a side and watch since I was chicken), the endless walk through the fair grounds, the smell of fresh popcorn and cotton candy, holding on to my mom's finger lest I get lost and a whole host of memories. One of the things I remember vividly is the house of mirrors. My favourite was always the one which made me look taller. But the most hilarious was the one which made you look like humpty dumpty.
The mirror we purchased seems to be a distant cousin of this risque gang. The speciality of this mirror is that it can make me happy. I have discovered that the farther I stand from it, the more elegant the size looks and the closer I get to the mirror, the bigger the proportions get. As can be concieved, I do not preen at myself in this mirror. I only use it to give me the shot of confidence whenever I need it.
My mirror has become the epitome of denial. It shows me what I want to see. I read in a fairy tale about an evil step-mother wanting the mirror to tell her what she wanted to hear. Now I have realised why she was so desperate!
My mirror reflects the state of my mind.
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