He knows my innermost secrets and is the friend I trust the most. He’s my sweetest buddy and my oldest childhood friend.
He’s the first toy I remember playing with as a child. He’s my joker. His unique looks always enchanted me. He’s one of my most precious possessions.
I’m in my teens now. I feel he’s as old as me. It’s as if we’ve grown up together. But there’s no change in him at all. He’s a part of my collection of soft toys which I share with my younger sister. They are all friends. It’s as if my joker is a part of a large family of toys. But he’s very special to me.
My father is a merchant navy officer and my mother often travels with him. Even I’ve travelled abroad a few times. My toy joker has been my constant companion.
He would often accompany me to my grandparents’ and aunts’ homes, on my shopping trips and other places I visited. He even had a special place on the dining table at home, in the car and on my bed.
My joker has always heard me out patiently — be it my childish prattle as a kid or just a regular conversation about my family and friends. Even now, whenever I feel like pouring my heart out to someone, it’s often to my joker friend.
I wonder how a human being can bond with an inanimate object. Perhaps, it’s because at some time, all of us need a patient ear to listen to our problems.