The Manikin

Christine was only a teenager, so angelic and pious in her nature that 'she' should have been spelled, Christeen , instead of Christine. She had the spirit of untouched skies and a heart of gold , but her heart got broken , even before it had learnt to beat... The beating was soundless, and so was the breaking….

It happened because of a heartless, who happened to be mindless and thoughtless …at the sametime...

Christine had her little goals, which were quite immature at that time, just like herself. She just have been sorting them, while her own self was being sorted, by the ruthless hands of time.

The stage was the most important stage in life of every human child and it was like a test of crossing a bridge of fire without getting burnt…

She had been warned and helped by everyone around, concerning her to protect her within the range of every aspect of possibilities …but …her vulnerable heart was totally defenseless,... as always…

It was the time of following the trends and fashion, which are always directionless and senseless at the same time…as they drive people crazy beyond their capacities and insist them to be engaged in reward less games and activities.

***

She was born and living in the world, where physical, mental and spiritual age is counted and celbrated in… valueless…numbers…which are nothing but a scribbling, by the hand of an expert but a mindless mathematicians of all ages. It was pity that the tiny teen burnt up all the candles of hope , dreams and wishes, pegged over the cake of her fifteenth birthday cake …which got melted like a winterless snow, in scorching heat of bitter realities. The beautiful icing of the cake , became covered with lifeless scum of the melted wax, leaving no space to breath…

Christine became breathless for the toll taken by her fragile being surrounded by the colorless dark-hole, engulfing all the divinity inside her!

In her hurry she totally lost herself and became a withered flower before blooming. She lost her inner and outer sight ,and light…. She never thought of becoming a fashion designer..again.

How fond has she been of exploring the shopping malls with people she called friends, but within no time she only preferred window shopping, which was just a priceless and harmless activity .

***

One day her despair lead her into a thrift shop, where a heap of used items was on sale, tagged with highly reduced price to make the item approachable to everyone, who look for the cost of everything they want to possess.

She felt as if she was one of them……….with no self-respect left inside the hollowness of her existence…

On the rack of miscellaneous items, something caught her attention….

It was a Manikin, made up of solid wood, though the gleam of varnish over it had faded, just like the outer layers of sedimentary rocks eroded by the clever winds of passed ages….but still it looked quite attractive…waiting .....to be picked up…

She picked it , paid for it and went home.

***

She put it on the night-table beside her and started looking at her….she felt as if it was looking at her too…she started talking to it and it seemed it was listening too…..

Tears welled up....like a spring of mixed feelings , fighting with eachother, inside her heart....As a teardrop , concealing all the mysteries of her broken self reached her eye lashes ,the magical tiny fingerless hand of the Manikin reached out and picked the drop. Its mouth less face blew it with all its invisible strength. The drop boarded the air and traveled passed all the vacuums …to reach the heavens…and became a shining star of selfless hopes , dreams and wishes…

She became friends with Manikin.

She took out her old sketch book and started sketching it . The Manikin became the model for her fashion pursuits to follow. It was all the way, very intelligent and funny as it posed for her...to make her smile...

Manikin shared all the blueness of her being and she started smiling again. She started feeling safe and secured again ,in the company of the selfless friend around her…dropped from the heavens…out of the blue….

The fire of pain , changed her heart of gold into an even precious form as she gained herself …back…her heart started gleaming again...with orange-gold gleam...

.The apparantly ,heartless, mindless wooden doll , the Manikin, was so manly and humanly, that it touched her every way she had ever longed for…as…. it was the one who never touched her …leftover…ego …again….

She paid so little for him, but the Manikin was really priceless.....


SW


To all the suffering Teens of the Western world…