Autobiography: A Pair of Socks

“Hi folks, let me introduce ourselves. I’m Marc without a K and this is my mate Mark with a K. Know what, I’ll give you three chances to guess who we belong to. You can’t guess – well then let me tell you. We belong to a young lad named Nico. This is how our long twisty old tale began”.

Nico was a cheerful lad always keen to try his hands at new things. He liked to wear us often – his guards against germs on the ground. He would wear matching clothes with us - that’s red and blue. We had his favourite colours, you see! Hot summer school days were beastly to us making us stinky, dirty and sweaty. Don’t know about Mark but I longed for a nice bubbly spin in the washing machine. The best time for us was when winter started approaching. During Nico’s winter break, we could relax at home. The coziness of the fluffy slippers he wore was just what we wanted. I can still feel the warmth.

Yes, yes those were some fine days.

Days went by, seasons changed and we altered too. After being worn many times, we started wearing out. Our threads started loosening. We got weaker while he got bigger. When Nico’s mom would fix the small holes, the pain was terribIe. I tell you it felt like having a surgery. But even her best efforts to mend us did not work long. THEN it happened one day – we can still remember the incident so clearly. We were kept on an old chair because it was Nico’s afternoon nap time. And C-R-A-C-K, a loose nail had pierced through and made a big hole in us. Not even Nico’s mom could fix it.

Next day, I overheard her saying that she would discard us. This was the end we had dreaded all along. Tears filled our eyes as we saw a new pair of socks being given to Nico. The store room door was shut on us for the last time.

Sigh… “What a sad story!!! You’ve made me cry” said the torn T-shirt.

“It’s a cruel world laddie” remarked Mark.

“Don’t call him or us laddie. We’re as old as you” said the undersized shorts and the dirty dress. Now it’s our turn to share our tale.