Ripped jeans

I picked up the jeans from the corner of the bed where I had tossed them. The rips were quite wide and prominent - near the knee. But you know how difficult it is to find jeans that fit perfectly nowadays. And to find them on sale! It's a no-brainer that you pick them up. Even if you have four other blue jeans. Well each of them is a different fit/ style/ shade. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it)

I couldn't help but grin automatically when I remembered my grandmother's reaction at looking at the jeans.

"This is a nice colour. But don't you have the same one already?" (She hadn't unfolded them yet)
"No paati, that's a slightly different shade"
"Oh my God! You have to return this. It's torn" (There you go. But I anticipated that)
"That's the style. They sell it like that"
"You mean they intentionally tore this?" Looking aghast
"Yeah...it's fashion"
"They sell torn clothes at shops now?" She completely ignored my fashion explanation, but now that she put it like that. "What is happening to this world." I almost have to agree.

My grin became a laugh as I sat down on the bed myself. It had been so long since I owned a pair of ripped or frayed jeans. A long forgotten memory popped up ... of two young girls who felt too much.

"Dude! It's so horrible. I can't believe she did that! If I had been there, I would have stopped this from happening" Utter dismay and hopelessness apparent in her voice
"How could this happen! You worked months for it!"  Mirroring the emotion. It might sound a tad dramatic, but which seventeen year old isn't?
"I sometimes think she does this intentionally. She could not have not known how much this meant to me. I was so close. So close!"
"The result was starting to look almost professional. God. They just don't understand" She said, wistfully looking down at her black hardly frayed jeans, which were no where near the level of perfection the jeans in question had reached.
"I know! How could my mother just cut off ALL the frays? And fold it and stitch it too! My boot cuts don't even sweep the floor anymore, so months of hard work put in getting them frayed all gone to naught." Oh the misery.
"I'm so sorry sweetie"
When there is so much pain and hurt, words don't suffice, so hugs have to be given. And a prayer sent up that this scar may someday heal.

Luckily those prayers were answered. Those young girls were now happy women. We've long since left behind boot cut jeans and most of the drama out of our lives. The love and bond stays on, and that's more than enough :)

With a nostalgic wistful smile, I threaded the needle and got down to sewing the rip.