How do I get rid of this ghost? I don’t know. The ghost is a shadow in the dark that has made me too vulnerable to light a torch. In the blurring brawl of my conundrums, I know I should be strong enough to stand against this ghost even if it afflicts me to the extent that I scratch and tear off my own skin. I should amass all the light of this world, all the valor I can muster to slit the deadly throat of this ghost. It haunts me. It is one tyrannical foe. A dilettante to agonize me, whose aim is to kill my spirit and shatter my equanimity, the head-high me that day by day craves to live a cheerful life. I am but a cripple, endeavoring to reach that window of light and it is a belligerent fiend that kicks me to death. Something deep, deep inside me admonishes me something. Something I cant hear. Something assuring a quantum of solace. My head is dizzy and all I want is this pain to end. All I pray to God now is to deliver me. I am buffeted in the ribbs suddenly by my enigmatic foe. He grows strong. I want to cry but tears wont come and I don’t cry lest this anathema mocks me. But there is this window in the farthest corner. The rays of light have defeated the darkness there and are still, as if beaconing me. I lay giving in. I should atleast try to stand. I should atleast stand. The vague song in the oblivion of my mind amplifies. It bolsters me, by words I don’t know. I am kicked and smacked as I stand, but I stand. It is as if walking in the snare of a giant spider. However this spider is human, I know somehow. I am closer to the window now. Closer. I trod with the time that is passing so slow that my ragged breathing could have made a thousand years. I have walked through him. I smile one twisted smile. I know because it takes an effort to smile. I have made that effort. I have. The foe is frail and I am strong. I scoff at him, distantly feeling the pain in my spine. I commence walking with a paradoxical pride. This pride is foreign. My shuffling self is long gone. As fast as it came, my smile fades away. I don’t see the window. I am in a hull of sheer darkness. Just the time when my deep breaths alter to shallow and adrenaline courses hard, my limbs are delibitated. I fall again. I don’t hear the song now. In a jolt I realize I didn’t hear it before I fell. I am a wretch again, now that I was healed. Or was I healed? I see it. A slit in the dark. I cripple towards it. I am digressed, often by the kicks on my head. But I don’t mind. It is not the time to mind. My gaze is pivoted at the light. My pain is mitigating, as though I am caressed by a swift breeze through that window. It is beautiful, I tell you, that window of light. It glows with grace just as I gaze with a smile, a smile distinct from the previous one. My callous enemy has lagged behind just as my hands are contentious to touch the window. I smile again, my smile coherently widening with the flow of light in the space, just so the intensity has driven the ghost in me again. It is a mirror.