My late mom used to think I’m talented. My late father would reckon I’m intelligent. To my siblings I’m rare. My nephews consider me as their best friend. The relatives hail me as a living joke-machine. My teachers felt and still feel I’m a good student. My ex-series of girlfriends thought I’m impossible, incorrigible, funny, honest, caring, sexy and what not. My ex and present set of bosses thought and think I’m professional to the core but quite temperamental as well. Clients believe I’m their greater ROI (Return on Investment). Markets imagine I’m easily saleable and purchasable. Friends trust me as loyal. Foes fear my fierce revenge. Competitors loathe me for my “I’m only game to win attitude”. Readers love to read my lines. Consumers acknowledge my ads. Awards welcome my entries. Media sometimes take interest in me. Listeners won’t mind hearing me crooning or singing. Composers don’t kick my ass, hating my lyrics. A few institutes summon me time to time for lectures and training. There has never been any dearth of respect, admiration, and accolades. The packaging has always been very well done and maintained. Two lives have continuously been lived and led with ease and élan – one outside the packet with an expiry date on it and the other inside the packet without an expiry date, however might expire any moment. Perhaps that’s why, I was, I’m and I will ever be and remain PRODUCTIVE – a Product, which (who) is Creative! Though it’s unfortunate, that with my all puns intended and unintended; I can never afford to live as a HUMAN, only.
2 comments:
Justloved reading it
Thanks! :-)
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