Trying to be nice to the inanimate(s)

When a friend came to visit, I showed her my wardrobe and pointed to my new dress enthusiastically. ‘This is the best I have!’, I said. After she left I felt quite guilty, walked up to the wardrobe, held the hem of my old favorite and said, “You are nice too, I was just kidding”.

I am the one who tries to smile at flowers, talk to trees, soothe my computer with pats saying, ‘It’s okay baby, take it cool’, when it starts to hang.

I can make a simple task, like walking, quite complicated. I like to put my foot in the middle of a tile, hate it if I have to put it on the line or at the corner. Some days I don’t give it a thought, those are the good days; normally, I spend too much time and energy making sure that I don’t hurt the tiles by not stepping in the dead centre.

I always keep at least two of everything, two pens, two spoons, so that they can have company and don’t feel lonely. Sometimes I wear old clothes just so that they get an outing; I know how bad it feels to be at home for days on end.

Russell Baker once said, “The goal of all inanimate objects is to resist man and ultimately defeat him.” So will they defeat me? But am I in a battle with them? No, I don’t think so. I just see life in everything. My clothes, my toothbrush, my computer, all live with me. They share time and space with me.

But sometimes I feel, maybe it’s the other way round, it’s not that I see life in them. It’s just that I see death in myself. I know eventually, sooner or later, I’ll join their club. But till then, I am just being nice, just like how we are nice to a new neighbor – we want them on our side, we want them to think we are good and no trouble.

Yes my dear footrest, I like you too, don’t mind my stamping you *grin*.


Lurking behind the eyelids
Peeking through
Struggling to jump out of
The recesses of my mind
Muffled and pushed back again

Telling me to attack now
Then urging me to flee
Compelling me to lie
Convincing me to deceive

Making my feet go numb
Making me feel
The ice in my spine
Towering over my existence
Making me smaller everyday

You make me what I am
You made me what I was
You are my twin
I never conceded

Into my own shell
I always receded
Only to be pushed by you again
Pushed always

Sometimes I think how life would be
If I could just strangle you
And be free
Step out of your shadow forever

But I know I must have you
To keep alive
To go on living
To protect myself
And those I love

Death vs Death

Half a prayer, a stifled scream
I woke up sweating, it was just a dream

Panting hard, I tried to think
Eyes open wide, scared to blink

‘Only a dream’ I told myself
Put the fears back on the shelf

But deep within I hear a rumble
‘Why not you? You too will crumble’

Half a prayer, or not even that?
A stifled scream, is it all I got?

I know not many get the chance
To pack up and say goodbye in advance

The shuddering dread of approaching death
Versus the stifled scream, in my last breath

Do I want this? Or do I want that?
‘Not your choice!’ Destiny spat

I turn my body on the bed
And turn the thought in my head

My tired body, a ticking clock
Destiny’s blows it cannot block

It’s a thought to behold and keep
But I slowly return to slumber deep

Unknown to me, my destiny does hold
A secret hitherto untold
To which death was my soul pledged?
Can’t wait for life to unfold…