The Line

She was sitting in the arts room in the afternoon, with a pencil in one hand and a "what-am-I-supposed-to-do" expression in the other. She was eagerly waiting to hear her favourite sound...the school bell. The clock nearby the window was lazily ticking away, as if it had no destination to reach. As she was staring at the clock, the notorious villain, Anaahita's teacher came and scolded her. She returned her hazy gaze to the plain sheet which was resting on her desk. The sheet stared back at Anaahita.

The teacher had told the class to draw something based on the theme- "Lines". So, Anaahita drew a line on the untouched sheet. Then she drew another line. And then one more in the middle of those two lines... And then she wrote an 'A'. Then the self-confessed lover wrote her name all over the sheet. How attractive it looked, she thought to herself. The teacher came, saw and took away her sheet and told her to be more creative. Anaahita protested by reiterating that she had drew some lines which made sense. With a new plain, white and dull companion she began to think on the "lines" of the theme. She started chanting "lines, lines, lines..." in her mind to get some idea of what this topic meant. She thought of lines that separate people...lines that unite people...lines that lead to happiness...lines that lead to sadness...lines that lead to an innocent smile...lines that lead to an angry frown. Anaahita gasped. She finally knew what this theme meant.

Lines... Such an integral part of our life, yet so indiscernible. Lines that come and go like wind...lines that stay for life...lines that scar...lines that begin everything, and there are lines that bring an end.. The simplest, yet the most hated line, the Line of Control came first to Anaahita's mind. Then she thought about her grandmother's wrinkles...then her mother's scars on her hands... Anaahita stared at the clock. She'd never wandered so much in her thoughts ever before... She saw lines everywhere. So, she was still confused as to what to draw on the dull, white sheet which now was more interested in flying out of the window.

Within the last fifteen minutes of the time frame given to the class, Anaahita drew whatever she could gather from her thoughts. She thought since there cannot be a summation of "Lines", she drew the Cross of Jesus Christ. Satisfactorily, she gave her piece of art to the teacher.