Tied, Yet Untied

Rakhi has always been described as a thread of protection, of love, of belonging. But what happens when the ritual remains, and the emotion feels absent? This year, I found myself asking that question.

By Aayushi Rana

On Rakhi, my hands were not empty, but my heart… it was.

I tied threads with care,threads that held no knots of blood,only the quiet weave of duty, affection,and the hope of belonging.

They came, they sat, they placed money in my handand with that, their duty was done.

As if currency could carry love,

as if silence could stand in for care.

I do not demand much not gifts,

not rituals,

only eyes that meet mine,

a voice that asks, “How are you?”

I smile,

I listen,

I carry their stories, 

yet, who carries mine?

This year, when they came and left,

I was left with a silence so loud

it asked me:

If I had a brother by birth,

would love have felt different?

Would someone have stayed

to hear the trembling of my heart?

I am not bitter.

Only human.

Only a sister

who still believes

that Rakhi is meant to bind hearts,

not settle accounts.