Ek Coffee Mug ki Aatm Kahani

03Aug08

Title Translation: Autobiography of a coffee mug

I was mere clay, shapeless, colorless and formless when I was picked from my mother earth. Like every child going away to a boarding school, though the idea of being on my own scared me, it excited me as much. There were a thousand possibilities of what I could turn into like, nevertheless unlike humans they weren’t in my hands. I could’ve ended up in a trash site with thousands of my other less fortunate friends or in the roots of a strong tree supporting it to eternity or I could have ended up joining a water stream and draining for thousands of kilometers, settling where I want. But destiny was more favorable to me, it took me to a potter instead.

Coffee Mug

Coffee Mug

As I was filtered to remove the impurities contained in me, I felt like departing from a part of mine, but I wanted to be better and with those flaws there was no way to get better. So I let them go and invited the element which would purify me. Water flowed in through me to remind me of how meaningful of a shape I could take with its help and then my skillful stable hands touched me, the way they smoothed me, the way they made sure I felt good and the way they treated me on the wheel made me remember my mother earth. Their careful movements carved the niches so subtle in me that I didn’t know existed. Oh the joy when I saw myself in the water puddle formed beside the wheel. I had taken the form of a coffee mug. Then I joined my friends in queue to be treated with paint. I didn’t hate my original color but I always knew I could look much more beautiful, that was when the white paint touched me and changed me forever. I was already feeling new and I was anxious to see what patterns would I be painted with, the artist decided to paint me with the more fortunate sons of my mother earth – the flowers and the fruits. That dab of yellow and purple and oh the red, I was flaunting to my fellow mugs of how beautiful I was.

I then moved into a dollar store where I would be sold, I was finally happy that I was of some value. Then came my master, who looked at me and passed by. I was disappointed that I wasn’t attractive enough for him and I was so envious when that maroon cup was being looked over by him, so what if it looked a bit more beautiful, I was certainly bigger and would serve purposes which it wouldn’t. Oh he was coming back at me, yayyyyyyy I was picked. He took me home.

I’ve been spending a happy life since then. I’m the first one he uses in the morning. There’s no way he can start his day without me. I was big enough to become his cereal bowl, I would be poured with milk, sugar and cereal everyday in the morning, and be savoured over the morning news. And in the evenings I did what I was originally supposed to do, I provided him his daily doses of caffeine. He would take me in to the patio to enjoy the cool breeze with him while I was serving him coffee. Sometimes when I hide myself, he would go mad looking for me, sweeping the whole house. I so enjoy the attention I get. Ofcourse he does ignore me sometimes. I stay in the sink for hours waiting for him to clean me, but he couldnt spend a day without me. He would take me out of the sink and clean me, cursing himself for not cleaning me earlier. I also get to spend most of the nights in his bedroom, by his bedside by the book he’s reading, dancing to the music he’s listening to. I’ve also been the only one who’s seen him through thicks and thins. I have seen him happy, rolling with laughter and I’ve been with him in the more silent moments. I share with him the bond of a lifetime. I know this wouldn’t be permanent, but sometimes I wonder what would we do without each other. May be he’ll find another mug and I another Master, but we’ll never forget the bond we shared and the times we had with each other.

Original Idea: Ek Gadhe ki Aatmkatha by Krishan Chander, Seventh grade Hindi.

Sorry for the sloppy picture, my master took it with his laptop.

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18 Responses to “Ek Coffee Mug ki Aatm Kahani”

  1. How Sweet.
    Loved it. However, I would disagree on one thing. The master might find another mug, the mug would not find another master, unless the master gifts it to someone. Nahi?

    Sob Sob, that reminds me of my dollar store mug – Blue colored, and with CANADA written on it. My cook broke it a week back. This mug was with me for 4 years.

  2. 🙂
    Good. liked it.
    BTW, why are you posting it on both your blogs ? Which one should I follow ? Till now I am checking both. 😦

  3. @Manpreet: yeah i knw, my master might find another one like me but I’m not sure if i’ll find another master. I might be broken, end up in trash and rejoin my mother earth. But I didnt want my autobiography to be depressing, so was a bit optimistic 🙂

    @Cuckoo: Thx Cuckoo mam, my master speaks of u constantly. you must be great 🙂 .

    The reason for that might be that my master had redirected the site which he had bought temporarily(lifezlikethat) to here(WHW), so both the feeds might be showing the same posts, but he discontinued blogging at lifezlikethat, so plz unsubscribe frm tht blog.

  4. Whoa… Written being in a coffee mug’s shoe 😉 Amazing!

    Why should the mug find another master? I am very possessive about my mug and wouldn’t allow others to touch or even wash it. It has stayed with me for the past 5 yrs and I wish it does till I breath last! Touch wood 🙂

  5. Very interesting ! I really loved this post.

    Why did the most of the first part made me think that the mug was an African slave during the times of slave trade ?

  6. thats such a cute post…and the best part about it is that its about a mug…one of my fav collectibles.

  7. @Manasa: nope it was me who was writing….the coffee mug 🙂

    touchwood…i wish to stay with my master too, but if he’s a bit careless he might loose me 😦

    @Prash: Well, there’s much similarity between me and an African slave, only that what has happened to me is the best tht could happen to me 🙂

    @Pinku: hmm, my master loves coffee mugs too, but I’m his favorite 🙂

  8. Waah ladke waah….
    it amazas me, how people take out remotest ideas & sprinkle their creativity on it. A plain, smooth but nice post though I expected a twist in the end 🙂

  9. I am lost …what did you really mean in your reply ? 🙂

  10. @Rohit: hmmm twisted end ? but autobiographies really doesnt have any twists 🙂

    @prash: oh! I was answering u being the coffee mug, thought u’ll figure out from the early replies . Doesn’t it all suddenly makes sense? 🙂

  11. 11 wavesnsands

    how sweet 🙂
    i was smiling all along 🙂
    beautifully written

  12. Sweet indeed. And how endearing that the mug is destined to live forever, as mug or as clay, whole or in pieces. With or without a master.

  13. Best things happening to a slave ! 😉 hahahahaha…you are so lucky slave !

  14. PS: Blogrolled ya!

  15. I had a favorite coffee mug once & then it broke, I learned not to put my faith in coffee cups.

    Now I drink tea.

  16. @wavesnsands: thx , im happy that brought smile on ur face.

    @phoenix: true the mug is going to live forever, but aint it more important to live well and not just long.

    @prash: h h mm thx, will consider taking me if my master tries to get rid of me? 🙂

    @Manasa: thx manasa.

    @handmaiden: well,but its way beyond a coffee mug for me, its my cereal bould, soup bowl, tea cup…. 🙂

  17. Thats awesome!!

  18. 18 anilsharma

    Very good story.I like it.


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