Aah well, somebody did pluck the cotton from the tree and then they had to spin it into a yarn in a factory and then some machine wove it into linen. But I will not go into all that jazz. Suffice, that I was born as a spun cotton jumper in some obscure factory in India. Dyed white and black and fitted to the 't' for my size. I wish I knew who designed me, because I thought I looked quite attractive. Then one day they decided to ship me across the seven seas. It was cramped journey with my brethen and it lasted quite a while. When it was over, we found ourselves displayed in a showroom somewhere in USA.
Life was good and life was cosy in the shelf. Till, one day a foolish girl from India who had flown to USA for a short while decided to have a closer look at me. She decided that she liked me and paid for me twenty times the price than she would have paid otherwise , had she purchased me in India. She was back in India after sometime and only much later while sending me for drycleaning did she discover a tag that read "Made in India"
Now-a-days , she looks at me with a tinge of regret. She wears me still, but cringes whenever anybody asks where she found me.
And I thought I was quite good looking!
Not fair!!!
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3 comments:
Now I'm in a dilemma to figure out who is more beautiful? The cotton jumper or her owner or this post?
Hee hee! Not fair indeed, for why should a mere tag decide how beautiful we are :)
Dear Annonymous,
Very loaded comments, whoever you are.....well you are right! A mere tag would not have made the difference if it did not carry a price with it.
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