Hey Little Voices. I recently won a competition at iNTELLYJELLY which banged me a 6000 rupees scholarship. I attended my very first class last Wednesday. I learn a few techniques which I will be mentioning in my upcoming blogs. SO keep tuned.
The topic that sir had given us to work on was very interesting and unique. "It's a surreal moment, where even your own image seems to vanish into thin air. You stand before a mirror, but there's no reflection-not even a trace of yourself, unless...". It was a little difficult to build story based on the topic but my creativity didn't let me down. Here's the result!!
It was another sleepy weekend for the quaint town of Middleshire. Those who woke up early on that day were the only ones to notice a peculiar phenomenon which had swept across the globe like an unexpected gust of wind. It was a day like any other, with the sky being dull and people waking up late. However, something was amiss. People woke up to find their reflections missing, as if they had been plucked from existence by some mischievous spirit.
Dhamathi Suresh was a curios girl among them who found herself trying to solve the baffling mystery. She stumbled into her bathroom, groggily rubbing the sleep from her eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of an empty mirror. Dhamathi blinked furiously, wondering if she had somehow stumbled into an episode of "The Twilight Zone."
After a brief moment of panic, Dhamathi decided to investigate. She hastily threw on her favorite hoodie and set out into the streets of Middleshire, determined to uncover the truth behind this peculiar predicament. As she walked through the town square, Dhamathi couldn't help but notice the bewildered expressions etched on the faces of people. Everywhere she looked, people were peering into shop windows and puddles, desperately searching for any sign of their vanished reflections. “Morning, Dhamathi," called out Mrs. Potts, the local baker, as she stacked her freshly baked pastries in the window display. "Have you seen your reflection today?”. Dhamathi shook her head, her brow furrowing with concern. "No luck so far, Mrs. Potts. It's like I've disappeared into thin air."
Mrs. Potts clucked sympathetically. "Well, don't worry, dear. I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this mystery soon enough. In the meantime, would you like a cinnamon twist? They're fresh out of the oven." Dhamathi politely declined the offer, her mind racing with possibilities. Could this be the work of a rogue wizard? A scientific experiment gone awry? Or perhaps just a particularly elaborate prank orchestrated by the neighborhood kids?
Determined to find answers, Dhamathi made her way to the local library, where he spent hours poring over ancient scrolls in search of clues. Frustrated but undeterred, Dhamathi emerged from the library just as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the streets. She paused for a moment, taking in the silence that had descended upon Middleshire. Suddenly, a voice broke through the stillness, echoing off the walls of the nearby town hall. It was Mayor Pumblechook, standing with a megaphone in his hand. "Good evening, citizens of Middleshire!" boomed the mayor. "I understand that many of you are concerned about the disappearance of your reflections. Rest assured; the town council is working tirelessly to resolve this matter."
A murmur rippled through the crowd as townsfolk exchanged nervous glances. Dhamathi couldn't help but feel a twinge of skepticism. After all, Mayor Pumblechook wasn't exactly known for his problem-solving skills. But before Dhamathi could ponder the mayor's dubious assurances any further, a commotion erupted from the other end of the square. A group of street performers had gathered, their faces painted in vibrant colors as they twirled and juggled with reckless abandon. Intrigued by the spectacle, Dhamathi edged closer for a better view. That's when he noticed something peculiar. The performers cast no reflections in the polished brass instruments scattered around them. Dhamathi’s eyes widened with realization. Could it be that the disappearance of reflections was somehow connected to the town's recent influx of street performers? Determined to test her theory, she approached the nearest juggler and cleared her throat professionally.
"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice that you and your companions seem to be missing your reflections. Do you have any idea why that might be?" The juggler paused mid-twirl, his face contorting with confusion. "Missing reflections, you say? That's the strangest thing I've ever heard." Dhamathi frowned, her suspicions deepening. "Are you sure you haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary?". The juggler shrugged. "Well, now that you mention it, there was that one time we stumbled upon a mysterious old mirror in the abandoned theater down the street. But we didn't think much of it at the time." Dhamathi's heart leaped with excitement. Could this "mysterious old mirror" hold the key to unraveling the mystery of the missing reflections? Without hesitation, Dhamathi thanked the juggler for his insight and set off towards the abandoned theater, her pulse quickening with each step. As she pushed open the creaky doors and stepped into the dimly lit interior, she felt a shiver run down her spine. The air was thick with dust and decay, and she could barely make out the faint outlines of forgotten props and tattered curtains strewn across the stage. But her eyes were drawn to one object in particular – a tarnished mirror, standing amidst the wreckage.
With trembling hands, Dhamathi approached the mirror and gazed into. And there, staring back at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, was her own reflection – or rather, the lack thereof. A smile spread across Henry's face as he realized the truth. The mirror wasn't just a mirror – it was a portal to another dimension, where reflections roamed free and mischief reigned supreme. Armed with this newfound knowledge, Dhamathi raced back to the town square, where he found Mayor Pumblechook still droning on about town council meetings. "Mayor Pumblechook!" cried Dhamathi, waving her arms frantically to get the mayor's attention. "I know how to bring back our reflections! “The mayor's eyes widened with surprise as Dhamathi recounted her discovery at the abandoned theater. With a newfound sense of purpose, the townsfolk rallied behind her as they marched towards the theater, determined to set things right once and for all.
As they reached the building, Dhamathi led the charge towards the mirror, her heart pounding with anticipation. With a collective breath, they reached out and touched the surface of the mirror, their fingers tingling with energy. And in a blinding flash of light, the mirror shimmered and wavered before their eyes, releasing a wave of energy that rippled through the air like a shockwave. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the mirror returned to its dormant state, its surface once again reflecting the world around it.
And there, staring back at them with a sense of relief and wonder, were their reflections which were whole and intact, as if they had never been gone at all. Their reflections spoke to them – “You all have to sing and dance to the folklore song to get us back. The Goddess Osaniwa is unhappy that you all have forgotten to continue the traditions of your ancestors.” The townsfolk gathered around in a circle and started performing their folk dance. Their reflections one-by-one started flowing back to them. The townsfolk erupted into cheers and applause, their faces aglow with gratitude as they embraced one another in jubilant celebration. For in that moment, they had not only reclaimed their reflections – they had rediscovered the magic that bound them together as a community centuries ago.
HEY! No copying my homework!