THREADED RELATIONS

Throw it towards me. Quick! Quick!

And the Chakri came sloping down towards the kid with the blue shirt. The happiness in his eyes had lit his dark brown eyes with magical colors and the face of his friend at the other end of the thread with reddish luminance. The yellow piece of wood moving along sparkling red fiber tied to tiny fingers of two boys made me realize how the entire setting resemble our life and relationships.

Sloping of wood from one end to another, transferring love through threads of relationship generates joy of such level that there seem no ends. More the thrust is given from one end, the packets of love reaches the fag end faster. Life feels so complete that other tied fingers with relaxed threads become temporarily numb. These relaxed threads had once given similar pleasure. Now, they are knotted at several places, some more, other less. The yellow toy now has limited space to travel due to knots. Neither do it touches fingers.

However, the knots have made the distance shorter and kids can now see emotions through their jittery eyes directly. The fun of play has diminished but the strength of thread has been retained over the years. The colour of these threads though has diminished but there is an assuredness that it will remain of the same colour in future. These treads tie two lives together. These threads may be relaxed but not loose.

The threads that tie two souls is inherently fated to hold forever. Evidently, it takes disinterest from only one end to let the string fall in ground but painful efforts from both the ends to snap the red line. The stronger the thread, deeper will it cut the fingers. The wounds may heal but will show its presence forever. The hurt is from within. The penance for the same may be not just the twitching of thread, but the finger itself. The fate as stated. Vacuum at one end and lifelong carriage of remorse at the other, dragging behind.

Or, soothing touch of two hands can unknot the obstacles for wood to once again wriggle with all its valour. The process is tougher considering the fact that the kids have grown and requires the effort from TWO hands. The Process seems meaningless without the knowledge of result. The Process requires tremendous patience as some knots may budge to open. The Process requires precision as the thread may cause bruises if rushed to. The process is slow but generates elation of divine magnitude. The play restored is much more exhilarating then original start and partnership more stable.

Why did you do that? Why can't you have taken more care? Now it's broken. We will have to leave now.

A sad anguish from the boy in black pajamas brought me back to life. Tear drops were soaking the blue shirt of the younger one. I went to him and hugged him.

Uncle, don't console him. He has spoiled the play by letting the thread break.

I extended my hand to the other boy directing him to cozy up on my vacant lap. He came running towards it and sat showing bad face to the younger kid. This made him sob even faster and fasten around me with tighter grip.

The threads are in our head. Fingers can count only ten. Look at him. The threads are replaceable but not him. Treasure this bond. The piece of twine is just one of the ways to hold together and enjoy life.

I stood up as the boys loosened their hold, realizing that they may not have understood a single word. However, when I looked back from the distance, the older one was clearing the tears out of the younger boy's face.