Although I provide so much mirth and excitement to the children, I, after a certain point of time, am thrown away. That attachment remains no more between the kid and me. It feels painful. It feels pathetic indeed. I, too, shed so many teardrops, but, unfortunately, those drops of tears from my eyes are invisible. Once the child grows up, I remain neglected. There is no need of my time and company anymore. I have to stay ensnared in the sooty corners of a room. How ungrateful the human beings are! How can I forget the time and the memories I shared with the infant? They call me ‘a doll’ that has no life at all. The parents sometimes utter to their children, “Why do you waste your time so stupidly with your dolls?” I laugh silently; yes, I do, thinking how the world has become day after day. I light up the lives of the children with such happiness and sacrifice. As and when a kid gets me in its hand, its face is lit up with joy and friendship. I can hear those smiles; I can sense that cheerfulness always, even after I get thrown into the trash.
You may like to read my other blogs:
https://somalimukherjee.blogspot.com/
https://mirandamemmi.blogspot.com/
