On Movement And In Conversations With Inanimate Objects

On Movement And In Conversations With Inanimate Objects

On Movement And In Conversations With Inanimate Objects

I started to collect the old things to replace them with new things for my new home.

Gosh! It’s a damn mess. A home of 14 years. Junk galore.

Old saucepans without the handle. A rusty knife, that my cook promised to sharpen to clean the fish scales. He evidently didn’t use this.

The broken China that he fixed with glue and hid among the pile.

I began collecting all the old things one by one.

I looked around the kitchen.

My coffee mug winked at me. WTF!! What happened? Did it happen?

I rubbed my eyes, blinked and again looked at the old grey coffee mug.

The damn thing was now laughing at me.

I looked furtively around and found that there was no one around.

I walked up to the mug and said, “you dare wink and smirk.
I will trash you too among the old items. I missed you!”
Wait!!

Again the fat rotund schmuck of a cup winked back.

This time I went closer, my eyes into the mug. Fatso!

The mug smiled and said,

“Look at the side, remember when you carelessly carried me and you knocked me on the side of the door and gave me this bruise? I live with it. Remember?”

I whispered and said, “No, I don’t recall!”

“Ok, remember when Dida passed away you filled me to the brim with black coffee and wept. Your salty tears dropped and I felt you on my arm… you dimmy you call it my handle. It’s my arm.

I have always been there for you. Our fingers intertwined every morning as you listened to songs and watched the butterflies in your garden.

I stay with you, watching you put your lip towards my edge, as you find your refuge in me.

I know you are pretentious many times. You use words like sukoon and ishq. I have heard you sip your hot coffee, and when it scalded you, you used the F word. I don’t use words like you.

How can you forget that I am your best friend?

You carry me wherever you go. So learn to clean me gently.

I have seen many a moon wane and wax with you.

I love you.

Your broken, chipped mug.”

Photo credits : Praditkhorn Somboonsa