The Myna and the mirror

Every morning, as the day quietly unfolded, a familiar visitor arrived at the house opposite ours. A common myna would perch on the window ledge, tilt its head, and suddenly begin pecking at the shiny glass.

Tap... tap... tap...

It wasn't searching for food. It wasn't trying to get inside. The bird had spotted its own reflection and believed another myna had dared to enter its territory.

With unwavering determination, it challenged the silent stranger. It hopped, fluttered, pecked, and stared, waiting for the intruder to retreat. But the "other bird" matched every move exactly.

After a few minutes, the myna would finally give up and fly away.

Yet, almost every evening, it returned with the same courage and the same hope—ready once again to defend its little world.

Watching this daily ritual, I couldn't help but smile. Sometimes, in life too, we spend our energy fighting reflections of our own fears, doubts, or misunderstandings, believing them to be real obstacles.

The little myna flew away each time, unaware that its greatest rival had always been its own reflection.