The Masters of the House



I have seen the light, the darkness, the cries, the joys, everything and I have consumed them all within these six walls, a window and a door. Be it the cruel weather or the human noise outside asking for justice, I have always listened to my masters, when it comes to shutting down everything and anything. They all walk in here like kings and Queens but outside, they obey the rules…they are part of this world…they don’t protest…they bend the knee…but in here…the masters speak louder, for us to obey and worship them, as if they are the only breathing Gods. They kept us clean and decorated because they do not want their false reputation going down the gutter.

The nights are usually calmer here and that is when I think of the glory days and rest with ease. However, one night, all these fools thought of finding a better place to live. The thought scared me. I could not sleep that night. We were all sad. The windows asked me to break the glass for them to face the heat of outside…The door said “Let them get robbed…Free us”. They were right protest but they forgot that we all were slaves. We all were only here to serve them and not be one of them. Humans have mastered the art of being “ungrateful” but are not we a part of their imagination, their need and their prestige. How can they abandon us? Each brick of this house has kept their dark secrets…the floor never hesitated when they walked on it with their dirty deeds… the door only welcomed whom they loved and cared about. Now, you want to leave us, abandon us. Bastards

The sun rose and it was time for us to fall. The masters walked in but divided. Only the Kings showed up. I chuckled a bit because that is where I thought, we were not the only slaves in this house. The Queens were too. The discussion began. The ambitious one said, “I have gathered enough wealth now. We deserve a better place to live. This house is too small for my dreams to become a reality.” The daydreamer stood up and said, “I need more emptiness to feed my luck. The power of imagination needs silence and this house only understands NOISE.” I was devastated with what they had said. The last one, the older one, and the one whom I had my hopes lunged upon, raised his hand and said, “I have lived all my life here but I don’t want to die here…Fulfill my dream and take me some place bigger than this shithole.” Ah! Older does not mean wiser.

They were gone. For that brief moment, we felt freedom. The noises of our masters burnt and the fragrance of silence rose from the ashes. However, we forgot about our nature and the masters subtly reminded us, with a sign on the door that said “FOR SALE”. Are we just a tool for your dreams? Why do you have to curse us before leaving? We were there when nobody was…We loved you despite your flaws… We nurtured your dreams and your reality. Who am I to complain? Who are we to complain? We are just bricks, cements and woods. I hope one day, someone walks through this door and says, “This is a beautiful house.”


“Darling… are you ready to see your new house?”

“I am excited.”

“Now, slowly open your eyes”

“This is beautiful”

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes! Much better than that shithole we lived in before”

The house chuckled once again and said, “Humans. Ungrateful bastards”


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