Up and down, in and
out
Tiny stitches fill it
out
Holes and tears
Rescued nimbly by the
rafugar's hands.
He was sitting outside the laundry, hunched over the kurta, focused on the work at hand. His
fingers moved nimbly, repairing the tears with neat, tiny stitches. Neither the
noise of the traffic nor the cackle of passers-by disturbed him. He seemed to
be lost in a world of his own – mending, bringing together those that were torn
apart. Once he was done, he looked at his work, holding it out in the light. He
seemed satisfied. Putting away the kurta,
he began on the next task. The rafugar
was at work, displaying the beautiful art of restoration.
Did he ever wonder what caused the hole or what tore them apart? What
could have happened that marred a perfectly good outfit, a bag, or a sari. Was
it a rift that caused the tear, or mere carelessness as it got caught in
something sharp or plain force which turned out to be too strong for it to
bear? What was the story behind the tear, did the rafugar ever wonder as he kept mending one after another?
He’s not just another man. He’s an artist, a surgeon, a healer. He heals
the torn, puts them back together so that they can continue on their journey,
without being thrown asunder. He breathes new life into that which was nearly
done with. If not for him, its life might have ended or taken a different turn
altogether. Fortunately, he’s brought in and given a free hand to mend, repair
and bring back to life. Once he’s performed his magic on the victim, it begins
its new innings.
Does he mend the holes in his life as skillfully? Is he able to repair
and give new life to relationships that he may have unwittingly or carelessly
torn apart? Is he as good a healer with his life and family as he is with the
lifeless material in his hands?
At some point in our life, we are all a rafugar, some more skilled than others at the art of restoration. We
mend, we bring together and make relationships whole again. Yet, the scars
remain, no matter how skilled we are or how much love and care we bestow on
repairing the torn. Skilled as the rafugar
may be, the distortion in the material remains alive in the heart of the wearer
as does the dull ache in the heart of the one who’s been hurt.
As these thoughts crossed my mind, a verse I read at another time and
place came to the fore – Words and hearts
should be handled with care, for words when spoken and hearts, when broken, are
the hardest things to repair; for even when mended, the crack is still there.
