The Dolls’ House

It’s surprising how life comes a full circle.

She plonked herself on the couch, that sunk under her weight, with a doll in her hands. She ran her wrinkled, trembling fingers through its tangled, plastic golden hair, her eyes lost in the depths of time. She saw a young girl, squealing, the giggles echoing in her ears. The dimples on her chin welcomed the wide grin. The wind caressed the curly locks away from her chubby cheeks. She giggled again, clutching her doll close to her bosom. She was her best friend, her companion. She’d check on her the moment she opened her eyes, bathe her, brush her hair and dress her up. She called her ‘Mia’. You’d never find her without her Mia. They’d eat together, bathe together and fade away in dreamland tucked in the comfort of her soft bed, together.

Time took wings and Mia was lost in oblivion, in some corner, with rodents feasting on bits of her face, and dust resting in peace in the dark circles of her eyes. Her old friend had moved on, in the company of ‘real’ dolls.

The phone rang, waking her up from her reverie. She hung up without a word, clutched Mia close to her bosom. She had become Mia, a doll adored until 'real’ companions took her place. And with time, she too, like Mia, was pushed into the darkness of oblivion, muted by life, with melancholy feasting on her soul. She looked at Mia, seeing glimpses of her life in the lifeless doll, uniting with her long lost best friend, bathing her, brushing her hair and dressing her up. You’d never find her without her Mia. They’d eat together, bathe together and fade away in dreamland tucked in the comfort of her soft bed, together. And one fine day, she became Mia's mirror image -- lying on her couch, a life-sized lifeless doll.

Life came a full circle.