Dear Owner,

I vividly remember the day you got me home; I was enthroned on the shelf that had been cleared days before, just for me. I was the new topic of discussion, a conversation starter among your friends and a nuisance for your neighbors. You made me sing Elvis, Bob Marley, Eminem and others. Sometimes you made me yell too much. But yet, I was always the one you boasted about.

I gave you the best theater experience. In my life, I saw dance practices, parties, the love during romantic movies and fear during the horror films. But by the time I grew old, I started croaking and groaning. My throat began to wear out. I really wish I could gargle my mouth with salt water, it was always that helped you out of a sore throat, I am sure It would have helped me too. Soon Britney Spears turned into Usha Uthup and you began to lose interest. My voice, which you found to be melodious then, began to irritate you now. 

You decided to disown me and bring home another like me, perhaps better than me- A new topic to brag about. I had cringed at the thought of being replaced; I cried all day long making me sound worst. You gave up on me.

“Meri aavaz meri pechaan nahi rahi.”  Now I am just waiting for the end!

Disowned by you,
Your Speakers  

Dear Owner,

I remember the day you got me home. I came along the ‘Samsung television’.  I was glad, I was always told that the master will cherish me, since I will give him the pleasure of comfortable television viewing. But I was wrong. I realized that I was born only to be overshadowed by the TV. Everyone failed to acknowledge my presence, the Television was given the utmost importance. I was made so that the Television could show off.  

Over these years, I have been pressed, like a whore. Sat on, like I am a part of the couch. Flung to the other side, like a Frisbee.

I have lost an eye, and you think that I don’t do a good job of helping you change the channels? Did you forget that you were the one who flung me across the wall that day, when you fought over your wife over the channel? Pressing me harder will not help you get to a new channel, it will make matter worse. You molester!!

I envy that Television, the doctor is called to his aid, all the time he is unwell. I need a doctor too and all you do is plaster me will cello tape?  

When you are busy playing staring games with the Television, I am being manhandled by many. You have no clue how it feels to be caught by clammy sticky hands.  Sometimes even oily hand handling me. YUCK!!! Show some respect at least.

This is not done, I know I was never important for you, But you can’t torture me like that. I haven’t had a good life, but don’t make it worse for me now. Let me die in peace.

The only time I was happy was when your son used me as a gun when he played with his kiddy colleagues, and when your daughter used me as a microphone once to sing. Sigh!  

Now, I am contemplating suicide. The television laughs at me every day at my sucky life.

I can only hope to be reborn as a television.

Waiting to seek your Love,

Your Remote Control  

What if tomorrow you shoe throws itself on you, your pillow feels that your head weight strangulates him and threatens to choke you, only so that you get to know its plight. What if the television is tired of staring and blinking at you? What if all NON-LIVING thing in your living room are unhappy living with you?

So what if these lifeless things get life and start telling you to get a life?

Here, in this blog are these inanimate things, trying to talk to you, sharing their plight with you, threatening to rebel against you.

Because  agar Deewaron ke kaan ho sakte hain, toh bolne ke liye Zubaan kuyn nahi ho sakte hain :P