Written piece
Stitches
Bawamia Mariyam Mohamed
India
About this piece
It is my small literally salute to the BOUNCE BACK nature of hamanity which prefers mental strength, emotional regulation , sensitive flexibility and adjustment to challenges rather than just enduring them.
The mother was stitching clothes. Her eyes were drowned in deep thoughts. Her face was looking tired and worried. Suddenly her four year old daughter appeared in front of her holding her favorite cloth doll. The little girl's face was looking upset and heartbroken.
"My doll's head has split open!"
The little girl's voice was cracking. The mother looked at her little princess. The very sight of her brought smile on her face and she forgot all her deep thoughts, sadness and worries in that moment.
"Oh, the poor doll!"
The mother exclaimed in a dramatic tone to express her empathy.
"Give her to me. I will stitch her head."
The girl immediately denied the mother's proposal by nodding her head and hiding the doll behind her back.
"It will hurt her."
The mother continued to stitch clothes to make her daughter feel that she had the right to decide for her doll.
"For sure it will hurt her only for a while. But if you will not allow me to stitch, it will hurt her forever!"
The little girl looked at her busy mother. She thought for a while and then slowly brought the doll in front of her mother.
"That's like my brave girl!"
The mother took the doll in her hand. With a white shining thread she carefully stitched the split open head and gave the doll back in her daughter's small hands.
The little girl smiled at her stitched doll and at that very moment there was a big explosion.
*
There was a big chaos in the hospital. The limited medical staff was running here and there to help the another new casualty of the day.
The little girl was crying loudly in pain. Her head was bleeding.
Two nursing staffs were attending the girl. One of them exclaimed,
"We need to stitch her head!"
The little girl started crying louder than before. Her words were cracking but the decision was firm.
"Stitch my head. I know it will hurt for a while but I don't want to be in pain for ever."
The nursing staffs glared at each other. Not allowing their emotions to take over, they continued their job with professional practicality. One of them started the stitching process and another was trying to keep the little girl's mind busy in conversation.
"Now that's like my brave girl!"
Outside the room, the hospital corridor was full of war victim dead bodies fully covered in white clothes.
One dead body's hand was slightly out of the white cloth. In the blood covered hand the white shining thread was proudly visible.