Woven Memories

It was winter, around 13 degrees. The winds blowing outside were making things a bit unbearable for a lot of people who had to go out.



Vishesh stood looking at the olive-coloured sweater in his hand and then he looked at his grandmother’s face who was smiling at him. Vishesh had been wearing his grandmother’s hand-woven sweaters forever.



Vishesh’s grandmother had been a housewife all her life and she had a lot of hobbies and weaving sweaters was one of them. She wove sweaters for everybody in the family. Vishesh often wondered how she knew what size would fit, but they just did.



Vishesh had once had a dream where everything outside had been woven by wool and wool balls could be seen around. There was a park covered in wool and in the middle of the park sat his grandmother in her wooden rocking chair, happily weaving and all that was woven was flying away to be added to the world.



“Don’t you get bored of it?… you can always try some other hobby.. maybe read more books,” Vishesh told his grandmother one day



“You know I used to teach classical dance to children once and I also performed at many events,” said grandmother as she observed Vishesh’s expression turning into one of surprise, “.. I have become old if you haven’t noticed, there is a lot I cannot do anymore, you can say weaving is one of the last few things I can.. I don’t feel bored, but rather afraid that my hands won’t be able to do it one day”



Vishesh stayed quiet as the light of the Sun entered through the glass of the closed window and both of them stared at it in expectation of the warmth it would bring.



“I will weave some more for you; they might last you till you are way deep into your adult years. I may not be around to see you wear them though,” said grandmother



“You are going to be here for a very long time,” said Vishesh, “there is a lot that I want you to see me do in life”



Grandmother smiled as both of them enjoyed the warmth that had followed the sunlight inside.



“See… I am going to wear this one today,” Vishesh said holding to the olive-coloured sweater in his hand in front of the smiling portrait of his grandmother

Written by Anuran Chatterji

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