"The Curse of the Reflection"

There once was a princess. And as one might expect of a princess, she was beautiful. Her smile revealed a dazzling row of teeth—not pearly like the old saying goes, for pearls are delicate and tarnish with time. No, her teeth were like diamonds: radiant, strong, and enduring.
 
She adored dressing up. Her wardrobe was a treasure trove of exquisite garments from around the world—salwar kameez, lehengas, jeans, jerseys, coats and pants. And her collection of sarees? Unbelievable. From rich Banarasi silks to the traditional Marathi nine-yard drapes, she owned hundreds in every imaginable hue.
 
In her palace stood a grand mirror. But this was no ordinary mirror—it could speak. Every morning, the princess would dress in something new, adorn herself with care, and stand before the mirror. She would ask, “Tell me, Mirror, how do I look today?”

And the mirror would reply with joy, “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”

Hearing this, the princess would beam, snap a selfie, and post it on social media. Heaven knows how many hearts broke daily upon seeing her photos.
 
One morning, she wore a traditional nine-yard saree and stood before the mirror. A thought crossed her mind: “Every day I post my selfie. Today, I’ll post one with my reflection.”

She took a selfie with her own image in the mirror and, as always, asked, “Tell me, Mirror, who looks more beautiful—me or my reflection?”
 
The mirror hesitated. It wasn’t a politician skilled in diplomatic answers. It was used to speaking the truth. It replied, “Princess, your reflection looks more beautiful than you.”

Ahhh…
 
“My own reflection has become my rival…”
 
The next morning, the palace cleaner found shards of glass in the trash heap.