Broken but beautiful

The mirror i faced banged ,shattered into pieces but it seemed beautiful; maybe because I had changed my definition of beautiful.  

For earlier I looked at my face but never perceived it. The broken pieces, each piece spotlighting every bit of my skin. Looking at the piece on the top ,i was stunned by my magnificent eyes ,I never knew my eyelashes were so big and that my iris shined like a pearl and while gazing at the lower piece I found my pulpy lips , the charisma could hoodwink anyone.  Ah! Look at those cheeks as soft as a melon. The broken mirror aided me as I observed myself rather than looking myself.  The broken mirror helped me discover a side unknown to me.

Yore back I felt beautifully broken was an oxymoron but pondering over it changed my perspective.  Now I believe the 'broken me' is a point just before my zenith; for the journey from breaking to recollecting myself adorns me with self-love,self-belief,independency and creates a revamped version of me. This new me is a paragon of growth. I felt a sudden zeal ,appreciation for the beauty in me like the broken vase felt after it was reconstructed with ribbons, clay and love.

I think that being broken is a state of uncomfort,a new zone but we say that every success story is tale of constant adaptation, revision and transformation. isn't it? The pond is stagnant the repercussion is; it turns unhygienic and filthy ,to the contrary the river is always moving , slipping between the ridges, striking past the rocks but eventually it grows....., it grows into a beautiful brimming sea.

I broke to rediscover every piece of me.will you beautify a broken vase or throw it in the bin. Will you embellish the broken you or abandon it?

The Caterpillar slept in the cocoon in comfort

Enjoying, sleeping without any effort

The cocoon broke, caterpillar was scared ,wanted to cry

Little did it know it was becoming a magnificent butterfly