Just Imagine
I imagined something yesterday, something disturbing and pleasing simultaneously. I imagined a market, a small market. Useless things were on sale such as tattered clothes, old books, broken glasses, wrappers of chips and I. The owners of each item were standing near their possessions, the possessions they were tired of but wanted to squeeze out even the tiniest of profit possible from them. The owner of the old books was the proudest of all as many people wanted to buy them to keep in the library, to learn from them, to criticize them, to be knowledgeable, to learn to catwalk and to use their pages for eating bhelpuri. Tattered clothes were being bought too for mopping, for making door mats and for tying things with. Some thieves had come to buy the wrappers of chips (honest thieves, I must say) to brand their non branded products.
My owners were a bit disappointed. They brushed my body trying to remove the dust. They were disappointed again as I was made up of dust. They tried to exhibit the softness of my cheeks and hands. The customers touched them but were not convinced. Poor owners of mine. First day of sale was over, no body bought me. My owners did not want to take home as I was too heavy to be carried. I waited there for the next day all alone in the market. To while away some time I started to think. I started thinking of history when my head was just too big. I was reminded how I used to distribute some pieces of my head in exchange of paper currency notes. People liked those pieces of my head and I kept earning.
An idea visited my head (the part I managed to save, the part I didn’t sell) that why shouldn’t I buy myself from my owners? The idea was pleasing. I started waiting for the morning. Eagerly. Impatiently. The starry night, the soothing moon, nothing attracted me anymore. I was waiting…and waiting in the open field of a closed market. Mmmhhh. My owners came finally. I dug some earth. Took out the currency notes. Handed over them to my owners. And bought myself. The amount was not very handsome still not less for a useless item. I was my own. I owned myself. Wow!
And so far I had imagined. I don’t know why?
I imagined something yesterday, something disturbing and pleasing simultaneously. I imagined a market, a small market. Useless things were o...