My Life In My Own Words: Autobiography of Mr. S

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

When I heard that autobiographies are the in books this season, I thought of writing one too. While working on this project, I realized that this way not only will I be leaving an imprint on the tapestry of history, but also bequeathing a treasure of wisdom, enlightenment, and inspiration to the current and future generations.

Once upon a time I used to live a very colorful, bindaas, kick-ass life. I will tell you about it, as also how one evening it came to an abrupt end. Since then I have been living a saintly monogamous life. Of course, not out of choice. Being an inanimate object, I do not have a free will, nor am I complaining because even the most evolved animated bundles of atoms and molecules known as human beings seldom get to exercise their free will. Like us, most of them are brought into this world to be used by others and go on living according to the whims of the very same others.

I don’t exactly remember how I was born. When I grew conscious of my surroundings, I found myself tucked in a box with a few siblings. For many days, rather months, I thought the box was the whole world. And then one day, our world was shaken and torn apart and we were thrown into a bigger world to find many more spoons like us. We also discovered forks and knives and plates and napkins. Whoa!

Soon, I was being used by a variety of people—corporate officials, politicians, gangsters, kitty-partiers, members of small and big extended families, lovers, etc. etc. Thus I witnessed a lot of drama, and was privy to many a secret. Sometimes, I would attend a quiet dinner with dim lights and soothing music, at other time there would be a loud rambunctious party. I served regulars as well as first timers. They would scoop exotic curries and put me into their mouths. The mouths would taste different in the beginning, but eventually they were all same. Here I want to clarify that I never forced myself on anyone.

One day, I was attending to an average couple. After a lot of argument they ordered three or four dishes. With a big smile, the husband told the waiter that it was their marriage anniversary. Incidentally, I was with the wife. All the time while eating, they were correcting each other with comments like, 'Nobody holds a spoon like that,' 'Don’t slurp,' 'Sit properly,' 'This is supposed to be eaten after that,' 'Wipe your dirty face,' 'Can’t you eat without spilling?' I could sense tension. What I could not understand was whether they were fighting or celebrating.

When the dinner was over, the wife, madam GJ (I will use only initials to protect her identity) wiped me with a napkin and put me in her handbag. It was dark in there, and I remained confused for a long time.

When I saw the light again, I was washed lovingly by madam GJ, and placed proudly in her spoon holder.

I miss the good old days when I used to enter the mouths of many intriguing characters and also hear their fascinating stories. Sigh! You lose some you gain some. At my new home, there is not much drama, only slight tension during dinner time over minor issues such as burnt food (madam would assert it is just overcooked, not burnt) or an under-cooked dish (again, madam would claim it is nutritious.)

The good thing is that I have found individuality here. I am different from others and I am used exclusively by madam GJ. Sometimes, if by mistake, I am placed on the husband’s plate, he immediately pushes me away saying, “I don’t eat with stolen spoons.” That really hurts me. It is like calling a child born out of wedlock, illegitimate or a bastard, for absolutely no fault of his or her.

(Note: I will keep on updating this autobiography as the events keep unfolding for the benefit of mankind. Until then, Ciao!)

Modified from a picture on this page: wackystock.com

24 comments:

  1. Haaaaaa ! You are brilliant di :)Please do update this most interesting autobiography and also more on Madam GJ .

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  2. He he... that was fast, Kavita!! Thanks a lot!!

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  3. Giribala, the last sentence was the clincher! What an irony to feel like a pariah having seen best days :( A sweet post!

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  4. lol thats really a brilliant idea loved it

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  5. Would love to hear the secrets Mr S was privy to..

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  6. @Alka: Mr S should write another book detailing the secrets....

    @Anu and @Abha: Thanks a lot :-)

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  7. Very well Madame GJ! :-)

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  8. who is who? :)
    wonderfully composed autobiography :)

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  9. @Neha: How did you find out? :O

    @Harsh: "who is who?" This Q is open to interpretation...!Thanks :-)

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  10. You cracked me up...good one...I always say sarcasm is your forte...looks like a tribute by Mr. S on a very special milestone :)

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  11. Well written -will be following you from now.
    Would love to have you read my blogs at :anjuscorner.blogspot.com

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  12. When do we get to read the hindi version of your autobiography "मेरी कहानी एक चम्मच की जुबानी"

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  13. Wah Wah kay baat hey! One thing more: how did the poor fellow feel at the hands of a glutton or at the hands of a picky eater?

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  14. GJ, You have started outshining yourself of late, not to speak of quintillions of lesser bloggers!

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  15. @Lalit: Chammach can't tell my whole story. You will need objects from other rooms too :D

    @Saumya: Yeah, that would be a revealing story!

    @Umashankar: Thank you!! Great to hear from you !!

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  16. Hilarious!! Glad to have stumbled upon ur blog..

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  17. That was brilliant. The victim being victimised. What an irony!

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  18. LOL...even spoons far from silver have interesting life stories.

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  19. Wow.what a fantastic reread..never knew a spoon could have so many feelings and feel so victimised.tonight at dinner sure will ask for the spoons permission before use

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  20. Thanks Neelam!!

    @zephyr: that sounds philosophical!

    @Purba: ha ha...those spoons indeed live rich and interesting life!

    @Sadhna: That would be a true Indian tradition. Our people say prayers to the atmas living on trees before cutting them and worship land before making a house!

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