All love the new and hate the old. I was brand new a couple of years back. I was beautiful to look at. My master, an engineering student, loved me beyond measure. He had taken a fancy to me. He had several coats but he preferred to wear me every day.
He brushed me daily before going to college. When he returned to the hostel from college, he brushed me again and hung me on a hanger. I was quite contented with my lot. I was proud of my shape. I was made of costly English tweed and tailored by the best tailoring firm. My tailoring cost my master fifty rupees.
But fortune, they say, is fickle. It turns like a wheel. One man it raises, another it sets down. Bad days were in store for me. My master completed his engineering course. He got a decent job carrying a fat salary. He had several decent offers of marriage. He was married to the only daughter of a millionaire. He got a decent coat as part of the dowry.
He preferred this new coat to me. I was neglected now. I was thrown on chairs and tables and sometimes on the bare ground. My master forgot in no time how I had saved him from the severe cold of winter. Now moths began to eat me. Neither my ungrateful master nor his bonny bride came to my rescue. I was allowed to rot. I was eaten and disfigured by moths.
ADVERTISEMENTS:
I was at last given away to a dirty kitchen servant. My fate is worse than before. I am now soiled all over with dirt and smoke. I am changed beyond recognition. I am battered and weather-beaten. I am now torn at several places. I often muse on my past life. Verily, our saddest days are those which remind us of our happiest past. What cannot be cured must be endured. I am every moment waiting for my end. Ingratitude, thy name is man.