as a child each and every one of us have a favourite chaddar that we have to have to have with us when our mommies tuck us in bed.
its our constant companion ( in some cases there might be a stuff toy in instead)
when we sleep, when we get up, and if in case its not there how much we make a fuss over wrong timings for laundry...
bestest buddy.. specially when we need to bury our faces in it and sob and sob and sob our lungs out, complaining about how unfair life is.....
we sob into its shoulders, tell it our life stories..... and then... leave it on our bed and go to our daily routine... leaving it unfolded to come back to in the night.
as we grow up, this chaddar gets relaced by other things, computers, another chaddar,
and sometimes other people.
these people are left unfolded behind, wanting, wasted.
without realising that you are also someones chaddar too.. equally wanting and wasted..
slightly wet from their lives, stories seeping secretly in our folds ...
unfolded unkempt creases.
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