Autobiography of my 6610i

This is the autobiography of my mobile phone, same kind as we used to write in school. I can remember our Hindi teacher asking us to write, "Cheenti ki aatmakatha" or some similar subjects in exams or as a homework, indirectly torturing our innocent minds.

So I'll handover to my mobile phone for sharing his experience of four and a half years with me.

Hello, 6623s and some 1100s or my rival iphones, I hope you all are doing well. To initiate with, I would like to recall my owner's desperation of buying me, one of the popular mobile in my species, four and a half years back. His eagerness, enthusiasm to play with me and use me still gives me a shiver. I still remember the care taken by him for my complexion, and the extra clothing for me to protect me from accidents. There was a hype of condom covers at that time. Though the real name of that cover was different, I remember him calling it by the same as it was elastic and white coloured same as a condom. I felt ashamed at first hearing the name but was fine after its comfortable fittings. But soon it was removed as it was difficult for me to enter the pocket of a jeans or any other trousers due to sturdy friction. Then many different clothes came and went away keeping my nudity intact at the end.

Gradually, the use became rough. I was beaten up whenever my keypad won't work. I remember one incident, when one of my owner's friend tried to punch him and it hit on my face. My display panel was broken into pieces, but I was happy to have a new skin after that, like having done a plastic surgery. The fake beauty wasn't for a long time, it vanished when I was dyed in pink from grey on the festival of colours,'Rangapanchami'. I suffered in agony, whole of my life by being dropped away on a running motorbike, being thrown on bed several times and also being thrown on floor in someone else's anger.

My respect was descending towards my owner due to his attitude towards me, and I used to be jealous when he saw at my advanced friends. He would always think of replacing me with them, but for my fortune and his bad luck, I am still with him. My life is like a long term bitch by gaining complete satisfaction until I become old and then my place is taken by another beauty.

I have become old, I can only store 200 text messages, and use 3 mb of space for the rest of applications and capturing images. My camera is like an eye suffering from a cataract. It can shoot images but keeps the identity secrecy of the person or thing shot. My skin was again changed recently, this time with a duplicate one, black in colour. The back portion of my skin is not changed but the front part with keypad is new. It has already lost its colour. My look is like an African-American breed of humans, but not merged together. The front is African and the back is American. My heart, the battery is on the verge of extinction. I am feeling like being on a dialysis like a human suffering from kidney failure. I need to be charged almost daily or sometimes two times a day. I remember the early days when my stamina was praise worthy, and I had a status in our ethnicity of Nokians regarding my battery life.

After serving for four and a half years of my faithful work, I will soon die of a battery attack. Till then I hope my bastard owner keeps me in a good condition.