The Reflection & Replacement- A Yuksom Tale
I came to Yuksom looking for solitude. What I found instead… was her. It started with a trek to an old, abandoned structure behind Dubdi Monastery. Locals didn’t talk about it, but it showed up on no tourist map. Cracked stones, moss-covered walls, and prayer flags that hadn’t fluttered in years. And inside that ruin—was a mirror. Oddly preserved. No dust. No cracks. Just there..as if, it was just kept or forgotten by someone.. a hiker maybe. At first, I laughed. A mirror in the middle of nowhere? But when I looked in, my smile dropped. The reflection wasn’t mine. The girl staring back had my eyes—but not my face. She was younger, thinner, her hair braided in a style I had never worn. She wore an old-school chuba, like a girl out of time. I stepped back. So did she—but a second too late. That’s when I knew: she wasn’t copying me. She was watching. Frozen, I stared, heart hammering. Then—she lifted her hand slowly and traced a symbol on her chest. A Tibetan letter? A curse? I don't...

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