A Wounded Silk-II

For connecting better to the story read the first part, A Wounded Silk.

Just as no story should be left untold, no story should be left unfinished...Incomplete stories have possibly many ways to end it and one can leave it onto time and probability or uncertainty…this can happen, that can happen, this could also have happened…But mine had already been written.

It must have been few weeks since I got stuck to this tree but, it seemed ages. It must have been few storms, rains and sunshines but I counted centuries of them. Waiting gets tough when one doesn’t know for what he is waiting and for how long he is to continue hoping? It was the same thing happening to me. I used to get tired after my failed attempts to get free and often got irritated and scared. I don’t know from whom I was angry...the tree, the wind or my wish to fly like the wind. And I know those two cannot be blamed because they are not wrong. It was much later when the purpose of waiting struck me...It was to stop and see the world in a different way. It was my halt for a moment.

It was only when I heard the echo of the wind I realized what place was it. It was coming from some snow covered mountains! I was for a moment awestruck and looked around with rapt attention. The place was surrounded by high mountains artistically drawn with white and brown colors…the earth below was quiet and humble…The stillness of the place could not be shaken otherwise by the echo that swings around majestically before vanishing to the skies…the sky, where the wind lived. It was a dreamland. All this while and I was totally unaware!! A valley so beautiful, shy and splendid in its appearance. Mountains have stood there from ages and thus are wise and humble. How do I know? I don’t know. I could hear shepherds guiding their flocks at some distance and children hopping and singing playfully. It was a pleasant distraction from the pain. The tree provided a vantage point and I enjoyed the little chatter around.

At that moment when the day was descending and the snow was turning back from silvery to white, I saw a little girl standing just beneath me. She was scared and seemed to be hiding from something or someone. She was wearing a woolen single piece dress that covered the whole of her and covered herself with a white muffler. She looked like a cute ball of yarn in that attire. And this cute thing was hiccuping. I was amused. A scared face that was perfectly cut round and red dry chubby cheeks. Her brown hair tightly locked into two plaits that could barely make up to her neck. What was making her hide?

Maybe I should make her aware of my presence and that she is not alone. I tried to reach to her hands...wanted to touch her to comfort her but I couldn’t reach her. My stuck part hurt and I couldn’t pull myself further. Maybe I could get to her shoulders, just rest myself onto them. No success. I swung a bit and managed to stroke her hair. She screamed, jumped and fell down. Oops! I scared her even more. And then she sat looking at me...with her small green eyes wide open. They were the most fine and stunning crystals I have ever seen. They brought a nostalgic feeling...they looked innocent just as I had been once. For a moment I saw a glimpse of my reflection in them. When was the last time I saw myself? Time must have stood still as she stared at me and I swayed between her eyes and my reflection in them. God only knows what was that feeling...fear of seeing me alone trapped in there? Or guilt of scaring the kid? They say if I had a heart I would have known.

A boy came running to her, knelt down and said to her laughing, “Got you, little meow!!”. Oh! Was it a hide and seek? How stupid I am! The little meow picked up a stick and ran after the boy around the tree. Ah! One tough fighter with no more hiccups. And then the boy suddenly turned, lifted the kid and tickled her before they fell down. The kid was still laughing loudly, the fear gone. So was mine...it was so much fun that I laughed and fluttered to my full length.

“Let’s go home kid”, the boy told her. I stopped waving. Is she leaving? Just like that? Does she know I was concerned about her? Does anyone know for how long I have been here? I wanted them to stay. I tried to pull down myself again hastily. Maybe if they return tomorrow they can find me. Wait. I can see those little hands coming up for me. YES! She cares. She unsuccessfully jumped to reach me. The boy then came near and took me off the branch after some efforts. At last! I was free. I remember he wrapped me around her neck and said, “What are you going to do with it. It is without any owner”. And things (people) without any owner are unfortunate. But she lightly touched me…the softest I have known in my span of existence.

For some next weeks, I was in a totally different world. She kept me with her and took me out to play with her friends. I enjoyed with the village kids. The kids kept me busy and happy enough. They used to run around, shout and play and return home at the end of the day. Sometimes she would tie me to a stick and ran. Sometimes she used me to hit some stout boys and I loved it. Sometimes the kids pulled against each other at my opposite ends. It made me weak but this new way of using me was interesting…I often slipped off from the other child’s hands. Little meow laughed when they fell clumsily. I used to get anxious when she slept. Can’t I be out and away? Maybe she can take me to the snow someday?

At those moments, I missed the wind. But now I had no hurry to go back to the wind and no wish to stay with the kids. I knew once she gets a new toy she would leave me but I was not afraid because this was certain that something next would come up or the wind again. Since I was no more useful and beautiful no one could steal me and no one could feel like keeping me safe in a cupboard.

One fine day, I was out with the kids. They were having a bonfire and this time the boy from the first day was also present. He was making them sit in a circle and was probably making them play some new game. Everyone was excited. It required lot of running and when kids are allowed to run they are on wheels! Soon there was chaos all around…chattering, hopping and laughter. It was getting way too lousy for me and I started having an uneasy feeling. I couldn’t hold on longer and didn’t notice when I fell on the ground near the bonfire. I could feel the grass beneath me, hot enough to harm me. I looked out for Little meow but couldn’t make out as every other kid had the same dress. The boy then blew a whistle and directed all of them to a nearby stall. Wait. You forgot me!! Everyone was leaving and I laid there and waited for that single face to turn back. No. Few moments gone. No one returned. I was forgotten.

Now I knew no one will return and if they return they won’t find me. I was finally on a journey…journey from a silk scarf to the wind. As I felt the burning sensation on my end I knew it would take me only few moments. I looked up to the sky. I thought of my people. I wondered where they were at this moment. What were they doing? Did they know I have come this far? Did they know all that I have come to know? Well, they must be safe and cozy somewhere. I had no regrets either. I had an ideal life till I fell in love with the wind, became an outlaw afterward…I saw the world, learnt to fly, learnt to be humble and patient, learnt to serve my purpose…

And what else can I ask more…I will be flying with the wind…after the fire will burn my fabric into fumes that will get dissolved in the wind…No one can stop me then...I will be free...I will be the wind.


P.S. You might think the end is still missing. I have tried  my best to bring it closest to the climax. Still, by nature I like to keep a story incomplete so to allow the mysterious forces to make changes if they wish. So that one can say, And life goes on!

A Wounded Silk

When I was made, fine white luxurious threads knitted together, I wondered over this life given to me. I looked at myself...white, like a new born soul...soft and light, like the morning rays resting on a new tulip bud...strong, like the cobweb among the bush that holds the water droplets and shine beautifully after the rain. I looked around and found many of my type, some lacked shine, some little rough for me and some too shiny. I was happy for my softness...proud of my elegance...and unaware that in this world there is always a price to pay...

I watched others, being taken away, transformed into beautiful cloths, waving me good bye...I wished them and waved them back. I waited for my turn...I was never envy of them because I believed that something better will happen to me. So, I waited very patiently for that ‘something’ to happen to me. At last, I was taken out...

They cut a small part of me and put me in boiling water and stirred ruthlessly. Shocked by the blistering heat, I forgot to cry for help. When I was taken out, it pained...I looked at myself still figuring out what the hell happened to me and found myself colored into gorgeous red!! I heard someone saying that I had become more attractive and valuable. I was a fine looking red silk scarf now! Really? I had a second look at myself; it was the color they wanted me to be in...Yes, I looked good...in fact, better. People would want me now...They would pay any price to have me...They would be wanting me because I will complete their attire and make it more beautiful...

I was kept by the glass window, wrapped around a lifeless female. It is called the art of luring away...make them believe that if I look good on this pseudo human, I will look better on them no matter how or what they look like! For some time, people passed looking at me...there were faces, admiring me, calculating my worth, some uninterested. I saw some of my fellows still hanging in the display. I didn’t know how to talk to them, so I never bothered them. And I was misunderstood to be arrogant. Each day they got replaced but I was still there...people came to me...

I thought they needed me. But it was the other way, I needed them. It was I who waited for someone to add meaning to me. Wrapped over a plastic mannequin was giving me no satisfaction! After all, I wasn’t made for it...there should have been something more...

And then she came, touched me gently, wrapped myself around her slender neck and looked at her image in the mirror. She flaunted her classy personality stylishly. It made me flaunt as well...I never thought I would look so good. We both needed each other to complete our purpose...the only difference was that her need was more or less a want. Without hesitating she bought me and took me with her. I was happy. I had just found myself a home...

Soon I realized, the best part when she walked wearing me was when the wind made me fly. I never imagined that I could fly. Till now I had only imagined being possessed and used whenever wanted. Fluttering in the wind turned out to be a relief from being tied. I flew joyfully and carelessly...and came to know a new world where I did not need to look in the mirror to prepare myself for the day but where flying was beauty...

It is in the nature of the wind to take along with it whatever it wants...make everything that comes in its way to fly in its direction. It was doing the same to me...One fine day, when nobody was watching, I flew...for the first time I flew freely...crazily!! The more swiftly I flew, the more eagerly the wind blew...

It seemed I was racing...against myself. I flew through cities, mountains, meadows...through summers and winters...It was like I can travel the whole world if the wind kept me moving...I had become the wind...In this ‘madness’ I didn’t realize that I was actually a piece of fabric, with limitations, cannot pass through the thorny tree that came in my way...I tumbled, tried to stop but couldn’t because of the wind...And got entwined between the branches...

I tried to fly even harder with the wind in order to free myself...but in this process I entangled myself even deeper and my fabric got bruised...it hurt. But the wind did not stop...I tried to rest but it still made me fly...The more I fly with it, the more it wounds me. I laugh and cry at the same time...Was I punished because I forgot to serve my owner and thought of exploring something that was beyond my periphery??

I still enjoy flying even if it hurts...it is better than drooping lifelessly. The wind provokes and teases me but I still wait for that ‘something’ to happen...I remember the day when I was made, fine, elegant, fragile, adorable...

Easily stainable and attackable!

Read the complete story, A Wounded Silk-II

Rendezvous with Mother Nature

Yesterday night was my first official encounter with the rain. It had rained only thrice since I arrived here. It was 10:30 at night and the town was half asleep. Usually these initial rainy conditions are accompanied with power-cuts, mosquitoes (Himesh Reshamiya’s fans!!) and hot humid weather. We had just ended with the discussion that Indra’s job should be handed over to the queen of soaps, Ekta Kapoor...she handles this rain thing very well in her serials...heavy rains and a story in each of them. Indra devta seemed not to be happy with this idea!! And to make his position secured, he demonstrated a tiny version of his power...well, our idea worked...and we were on our way.

Sitting in the rain with head tilted above, I realized how much I wanted to see it...and how much I miss those rainy days of my childhood. It used to rain heavily in those days...heavy enough for my heart to be content. We were the lucky ones. If the rain started at 3 or 5 in the morning, which would mean school’s ground must have been filled with it and...what else...chhutti!!! Praying this and secretly and devil-ishly smiling in our minds we used to just lie down and listen to the “tup tup”...when woken-up by mother, we used to rush to the window just to have a look at it...and the street of course, just to analyse the situation!! A secret smiling code transmitted to the other...Dressing up for school had never been so fast and interesting on any other day. A childish cosmic energy would help us to get ready for school in spite of knowing that the school would be closed today! It was a chance for us to be in rain...a chance to see the principal standing at the gate under her umbrella and asking children to return back. We would go all the way back to home through a different route (a long one) crying to other students, “wapas jao, chhutti hai!!” no matter which school he belonged...:D

Sometimes, we were not that lucky...going school in car is not always a boon...we were the dry ones and had to attend school in little less rainy conditions. Ahhh...par class mein kiske man lage jab bahar barkha rani nach rahi ho...dark and gloomy class...yellow and boring bulb lights...a teacher speaking some strange language...and restless heads turning left right, sometimes to doors, sometimes to windows...and the best part, when at dismissal I used to think, “kash mummy ne ye banaya ho” and to my surprise there it was already served before me...Maybe this is why rain is an answer to a child’s prayer...

I remember when I was in my first year in hostel...I was a lone lonely loner for the first time ever...it had rained so beautifully...a depressed dry heart of mine got so elated like it had found the thing it was looking for. With umbrella in one hand and shrinking to my half volume to avoid getting wet, I called home (I don’t know why). I told father suppressing my tears, “it’s raining heavily here”. He just laughed. How stupid I was...it rains heavily everywhere else...what’s the big deal...

I just wanted to share the rain with someone...just wanted to tell how beautiful I was feeling...just wished someone to see the rain through my heart...for the first time in my life rain had brought such strange feeling to me...to be with someone...Maybe this is why rain is an answer for a longing soul...

Now sitting here in the dark and feeling the rain on my skin, I wondered how it used to be fun, and then an emotion and how it has become an escape. I questioned myself why doesn’t the bathroom shower gives this kind of pleasure...after all it’s just a matter of getting wet from water falling from a height and giving you a tickling feeling behind your neck. This is Mother Nature...something inside you is connected to her...It’s like the relief you get whenever you see your mother’s face...the assurance you get in her presence so that your heart can say everything’s fine...the refuge you get in her arms...The same is with mother nature...No matter how old you get, every time it rains you will feel the love and blessing pouring down, every time you feel it you get to know everything’s fine, the assurance you get that you are being listened...Maybe this is why rain is a refuge to a tired mind...

Akele hain chale aao, jahan ho,

Kahaan awaz de tumko, kahaan ho..

Good work Mr. Indra! But you could have done better!! :P