Where My Broken Wing Still Remembers Her

If you think your life is dramatic and a chaotic journey, try being me, who spends every day clinging for “dear life” to a ponytail that moves faster than a roller coaster!

I once lived the glamorous life, sitting proudly on a store shelf, sparkling under bright lights like I was auditioning for a fashion show, ready to stop the show with that signature pose. Then she picked me a cute little girl. Her fingers were warm, gentle, and the way she smiled at my tiny wings… I felt chosen.

Every morning, with excess enthusiasm, she reached out for me and clipped me into her hair, and then we were off to school. The best parts of my days were wandering in the corridors, giggling with my “ master” in the lunch breaks, dance rehearsals, trying to peep from her long ponytail swaying like a VIP.

That said, my life had never been hurdle free, I was dropped, stepped on, and once spent three days trapped under her bed with an army of dust bunnies, ouch! that was extremely painful. But every time she found me again, she would say, “My favourite clip!” and I forgave everything, losing myself in the warmth of her shampoo‑scented, silky hair, my favourite place in the world…

But eventually, things changed. She rushed for school, she was getting late, grabbed me quickly, and SNAP. My right wing broke clean off….

She gasped, held me for a moment…then sighed.

“Awww! It’s broken, my favourite!” The mother shouted from the kitchen,” Dear! You are getting late, leave that, I will be getting you another in the evening.” Hurriedly she picked a scrunchie and tossed me in the dustbin, without even looking back, she ran.

As the lid closed, I wished I had held onto her hair just a little longer, my heart agonized started to cry, I was deeply in love with her hair….I would never return to that shampoo smelled silky hair….was I meant for this torture?
I was not magical anymore…