The man entering the room was a psychic. The room was about twice as long as its width, looked largely bare with minimal furniture, a couple of pictures hung on the side walls. It was brightly lit, walls painted in matte white finish. He could see a high mirror neatly embedded into the side wall on his left in the middle of the room. It had varnished wood frame delicately worked with flowery patterns as if it was a celebrated painting. As he entered the room, the door swung back slowly, closed with a mild thud.
Nothing to do, he walked up and down the room scrutinizing the little furniture and looked at the paintings on the wall critically. Eventually when he looked at the mirror he felt a surge of fear running down his spine. All was normal except the mirror didn’t reflect his own image! In reflex he looked at his hands, bent his head to look at his torso for reassurance and then looked back at the mirror, nothing; his image still wasn’t there. He was a psychic, he knew it was just a trick, mostly sleight of hand to fool people, sometimes strong persuasive suggestions to warp consciousness and fool the mind but brazen disappearance of image was not explainable. In auto reflex his hands moved up to mirror to feel it. He was surprised that there was no mirror at all. It was open space, a pane less window. In fact an identical room in the style of mirror image of the one he was in; complete with reversed pictures and furniture existed on the other side.
The above was merely a writer’s way of creating allegory, a powerful allusion or metaphor to make a point. There is nothing in the world we can say with finality. If I say am agnostic, it is only at conscious level I reject super-normal and irrational but I have no control over my subconscious. It is still ruled by occult, paradigms of superstitions and belief that my destiny is enshrined in wriggly lines on my palm. Is death then cessation of existence? Indeed it is at rational level but life is a lot more complex, there are mindboggling thoughts that prevent us from acknowledging this possibility. When I think of life after the death it seems to me that secrets of the world will be revealed to me after the body’s expiry date. It doesn’t quite gel. If the secrets are revealed, our reason to exist in any form will also evaporate. Paradoxical, isn’t it. We must live to know that we will never know why Universe exists! There really is no mirror on the wall to show us what we are, why we are.