Please write an Autobiography of a cell phone
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It gives me great pleasure to write these words, as I will be communicating you with words and not with circuit boards. My name is a cell phone and everyone owns me these days. My life begins when I am manufactured in a factory. Sometimes I am manufactured in the country of my company’s origin while at times, I’m assembled in China. Some people mock me for being Chinese, I wonder why! I am then placed in this cozy box and placed on shelves. Customers come and after thoughtful consideration, choose me. And also because the salesman tells so much about me, and I keep thinking do I have all those qualities? Well, I better should if I have to please my new owners.
The moment my box is opened, I feel like a king as everyone gathers around to have my first look. Children are the most excited as they fight among each other to play with me. Yes, that’s what kids do; they play with me, like literally. They know nothing about cell phones and keep pressing my buttons to hear those keypad sounds and dance on my ring tones. I wonder where have all the toys gone?
The adult owner then takes me and uses me for the real purpose. But wait, why am I being used in the middle of the night? Oh I get it! I’m so fed up with these Ghanta Packages offered by telecommunication companies. Teenagers waste their nights talking to their girlfriends and boyfriends. Was I made to accommodate such kind of a behavior? I bet Alexander Graham bell will be furious in heaven.
My life is also filled with many hiccups. People are silly enough to drop me on the ground. I get broken screens, bruised buttons and cracked casings. But the intentional accidents are done by kids who put me in their mouth, wet me with their saliva, throw me behind sofas, some even drop me in glasses of water. My adult owners always there to get me repaired.
Even with all this happening in my life, I love helping my owners. I give them happiness when they talk to a loved one or when they converse through messages. For me, serving them as a communication device is a dream come true but I do not want to hurt the humans when I am discarded. I don’t want to be kept in drawers or thrown away in the garbage. I want a proper ending, as I prefer being recycled and coming back in the form of another object to serve the humans.
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