The Snagged Doll
Written on
The Doll was like every other woollen doll in the world. She got out of bed every morning and did what she had to do. She watched closely what the Real Dolls did and mirrored what she saw. She laughed when jokes were cracked and held her head down when a sad news reared its head. She minded her Ps and Qs, she didn’t bother anyone and no one bothered her. So life went on, slowly, but without incident.
One day, while combing her hair, The Doll looked in the mirror and saw a loose thread sticking out of her bare shoulder. Her first instinct was to ignore it, after all, what’s the big deal about a small thread standing out. But then she remembered that she will be meeting a lot of Real Dolls and it’s not nice to face them with a thread sticking out of the shoulder. So she took a pair of scissors and cut the thread right off.
The Doll checked her make up and left her apartment pleased that she looked nothing less than perfect. Then in the bus a kindly old doll sitting behind her tapped her on the shoulder and said ‘Honey, there’s a loose thread sticking out of your shoulder.’ She thanked the old doll and quickly covered the unrelenting thread with her scarf.
She was at work and could do nothing about the thread now. So The Doll decided to spend the day close to the walls so no one sees the her and the stubborn thread. ‘I can do this’ she thought to herself as she walked to the photocopier. ‘Hey Doll, how are you today’ The Doll jumped back, startled, and bumped into the boss doll. ‘Oh me..I’m good. Thanks for asking mam.’ she said. The boss doll nodded and left. When she was out of sight The Doll let out a big sigh and leaned back on the wall. 5 seconds like this, that’s all she needs. She was walking away when something tugged her shoulder sharply. It was the stupid thread, it had managed to get stuck on a nail on the wall. Now it was unraveling and 1 meter long. She looked around and since no one was there she cut the thread off with her teeth, curled it up and threw it in the bin.
And that became life. The thread kept unraveling, not concerned about day or night, work or home. One moment she was laughing with her friends over drinks and the next they were looking weirdly at her shoulder. She kept cutting it, with scissors, knives, and any sharp objects she had at hand. But it just wouldn’t stop. Sometimes it would get stuck in her boyfriend’s cufflinks when he hugged her before leaving for work. She would scream out ‘OW’ and he would groan and say “Can’t you do something about it already?!”. “I’m trying everything I can!” She would scream back, on the verge of tears, “Can’t you see?!”
Soon her friends stopped dropping by because she just wasn’t the same anymore. The thread stuck out like a sore thumb and it was unsightly to see her constantly picking at it.
One evening she decided she’d had enough. “Let’s see where this ends” she said to herself. She sat in her favourite corner and began pulling at the thread. She kept pulling and pulling, till the rug below her feet was covered by a heap of thread. One long single thread. And then on the third day, when she was done, she was nowhere to be seen. All that was left, was a messy spool of wool.
Nazreen Fazal
Writer, Wife, Mother, Indian, Muslim. So many labels, one me. I write, I rant, I ramble in order to make sense of everything happening around. Join me on this journey as I share snippets of my life, going about work, my parenting wins and fails, and the murky waters that's long distance marriage.
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