The Honourable Handkerchief

In my school days, I always used to carry a handkerchief with me. I could forget my lunch box, but wouldn’t forget to take my hanky. It was so important for me that I always had it in my hand-whether I am writing, dancing , enjoying , having lunch or doing any activity. It may sound weird , but not my hanky. My hanky was cute with beautiful floral prints on it…it was much loved by everyone around. I carried it always, but hardly used it. More than me, my chasmish friends used it to clean their specs for a better vision in life.🤓

Once, when I lost my hanky, I cried out loudly ‘Ooh where’s my hanky, where’s my hanky?’ Then the whole class was busy in search of my beloved hanky!
One day, a stupid girl of my class asked for my hanky. When I gave it to her, I was shocked to see her lay it down on the dirty floor , place some coins over it and sit beside it, mimicking a seen. All I could see was my lovely hanky lying on the dirty floor. Unable to bear my hanky being insulted, I snatched it back and after getting off the dirt from it ,I burst out in anger at her. After this incident she never dared to mess with me or my cherished hanky….

As the years unfurled, my handkerchief bore witness to countless memories: jubilations, tears of elation, and even the occasional mishap during lunchtime. It became an integral part of our shared experiences, and each time I produced it, it ignited laughter and reminiscences. I came to understand that my handkerchief was more than mere fabric; it was a poignant reminder of the bonds we forged in those unburdened school days.

The handkerchief became a cherished emblem of my school experience, brimming with laughter and indelible moments that will forever reside deep within my heart.

My honorable handkerchief’s tale commenced on my inaugural day of school, when I was beset by anxiety. My great grandma cradled me in her embrace and presented me with the most treasured piece of cloth. She maintained that it was a “magical” handkerchief capable of resolving any predicament; it merely required a firm grip. From that day forward, in any precarious situation, it transformed into my ultimate lifesaving hack.

And so, the handkerchief, once a simple square of fabric, became a symbol of resilience, comfort, and the enduring power of connection. Though the years have passed and the school days are long gone, the memories held within its threads remain, a testament to the magic found in the simplest of things and the bonds that shape our lives.

~Sheen Nigar~

Hi! I’m Sheen Nigar — a proud, weird soul who loves spinning hanky tales. Yes, the kind that sneak up on your emotions… because I write mine into every word. I write differently, for those who love to read differently — and live to make a Difference.