Till about a fortnight ago, a sleek white and blue pepsodent toothbrush sat content in a sea green porcelain holder. It was visited morning and evening, (cockroaches and spiders barring) and it liked to believe that those few minutes were the happiest in its otherwise bristled existence. While it sat there patiently, it pondered over many things. Like the fate of the thinning bar of soap, the squeezed out of breath toothpaste tube and the floss thread on its last legs. Surrounded by so much vanity, it felt lonely. And it felt bored.
Until one day, it was joined by two new toothbrushes. And then a third. Suddenly, it had things to do, and people to speak with. And like the umpteen boxes of scrubs it too had company.
The joys of the toothbrush were innumerable. Fighting for space inside the sea green porcelain holder for one.
Loneliness takes on a totally different meaning, especially if you're a toothbrush. You know you're dispensable, and that someday the pretty bristles on your head won't be as comforting as they once were. But the same changes when you have company. After all, who better than another toothbrush to really understand how you feel.
The next fifteen days were the best that blue and white ever had. The four of them laughed together, whispered about the not-so-friendly. And then one day, one by one, the first two left. There were no weepy farewells, just a few drops of water, hastily shaken off, before being squeezed into the dark corners of a toilet bag. That's what happens to toothbrushes who travel a lot.
The third was the last to go, it's farewell different, wrapped in a plastic bag that belonged to a soap that was snooty. And smart enough to know, that lying on it's tummy meant lesser space for number three. In the company of the snooty soap, number 3 would forever loose its essence- and take on another different one.
Blue and white was once again left all alone. The bristles, saddened looked down and weary, and one by one, the last drops of water shed. And it was just a matter of time, and blue and white was the last to go.
1 comment:
Toothbrushes are like those flings you have. They make you look good. Give you nice and brighter smile ( or so you'd like to think). But then, with time, it seems to wear off. Before you know, the toothbrush doesn't make you feel as good, nor does it look as dapper itself. The very excitement of 'using' it becomes a routine, the same thing all over again, it's a relationship you are in, maybe the one you didn't want. it was supposed to be a fling! so you through the one and get a new one and start the ritual of you make-me-look-good all over again, preferably in a different colour (Adding some 'colour' to the whole thing, you know!)
Post a Comment