I turned sevenΒ and we shifted to our new home. There was something amazing about it. I was little and it seemed huge. Plus, the smell of newly painted walls. It was heaven. But at the same time I needed to grow up a little. It was then I realized that studies are a real thing, you’ve got to study and get good grades to be something in this marks-driven world. Well anyway, me and my brother got a new room, new desks and new beds that year. He told me not to panic when I freaked out at learning that I’ll no more be sleeping with Ammi and calmed me down by saying that I can always wake him up whenever I feel scared. I eventually got used to the joys of a new room. The first night that we spent there kicked off way too adorably, I still remember. Bhai asked me which one of the pillows I wanted (despite the fact that they were same) and I touched and felt both of them and picked up the one that had more polyester stuffed in it. I was such a dumbo. They were same, literally. There was no need to check and keep the better one anyway. Duh.
That day, this day, I forgot about my pillow. I did snatch it back from my brother’s head whenever he took it accidentally, I did yell at my sister for touching it without my permission, I did punch it and throw it away when I got angry enough to show some reaction. But I forgot about it. It was a non living thing. Until a video came up on my Facebook newsfeed.

After I was done wiping my tears off, I thought about it. About the whole pillow thingy. I asked me how many years I have spent with the pillow that I have. The answer blew me away. It’s been thirteen years. Like how can I even forget. I used it all along, I cried on it all along, I hugged it all along and it was actually there this whole time. And I never noticed. I grew up with it. Its the only thing that automatically adjusts to the position of my head when I lie down tired and exhausted after a hectic day. Its smell is the thing that puts me to sleep, instantly, when my eyes burn red due to late night study sessions. Its soft, gentle feel is the thing that never gets tired of my tears. Damn, I’m so cruel to my pillow. I’ve been so blind to this blessing. But I’m not anymore.
Are you too unaware of the importance of your pillow? I’d love to know. Type it out!

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