Sunday July 13 2014

The death of my lovely treasure

By Rogers Balamaga

She was many things, but grumpy was never one of Asha’s attributes. But this Tuesday, without any provocation, she just started sulking on me (or so I thought at the time). I tried to call her but I could not reach her, and after looking for a good 30 minutes, I found her sleeping on my bed.
“Babe, wake up. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

No word, not even a blink.
“Come on now, what game is this, the silent treatment?” I stroked her butt gently, (I hear it helps). “Honey, this is not funny.”
No answer.

I ripped her naked and scattered everything all over the bed before stuffing it back (I hear that also helps). After a couple of seconds, Asha lazily opened her weary eyes and croaked, “I’m sorry babe, but this is as far as we go, the last 27 months have done me in.”

This came as a shocker to me because come on; this is Asha we are talking about. What is two years to a girl of her pedigree who had never shown any signs of sickness? What could be taking her down so fast?
“Don’t say that honey,” I held her like the delicate piece she now was, “You are going to be just fine, let’s just take you to a…”

“…don’t be silly,” She painfully forced a smile. “It is time for you to move on, find another girl you can show off to your friends without feeling embarrassed.”
“Honey! I’m not embarrassed of you.”

“ boo boo,” She smiled again. “You don’t have to pretend about that. And, it is understandable. Look at me, all fat and weak. I cannot compete with the sleek and trim girls you have occasionally cheated on me with. I’ve remained faithful throughout this period, but I won’t be for long, and I’m sorry I won’t settle for number two.”

“Just stop honey,” sniff sniff, “You are not going anywhere, I won’t let you leave me, not today.”
“…shush! Not another word. And please rub those tears off your cute eyes you idiot. It’s been a good… *cough cough*”

Asha blinked twice, and just blacked out. I shook her, spanked her, but this time she didn’t wake up. That is the last interaction we had. That’s how I’ll always be remembering my Nokia Asha 200.