Please, don’t take my pillow away from me !


Ashok Silwal

Whether they are pillows on your bed,
Supporting your sleep,
Or cushions placed on your couch
For comfort or decor,
We appreciate their softness, their coziness
We are fond of them: to each one his own!
They are ‘necessary’ and enjoyable.

A sofa without cushions is a bit ‘dead’, cold.
Cushions are shapes and colors,
They live with our couch and with family.
Embroidered, drawn, printed,
With flowers, animals, geometric patterns,
Of various types of cloth,
As well as homey, snug, decorative,
They are generally cheerful,
Embellishing the common areas of the household
They give the idea of welcome
You lean your back on it
Or place it on your belly on cold winter afternoons.
Whether they are large or small, soft or hard,
Round or square
They are a bit like the atmosphere of the home:
A little ‘gypsy’, spontaneous
Or instead disciplined and a little stiff.
Sometimes, they speak about family memories:
A certain person may be always used it;
Or travel memories:
Bought abroad or given as a gift by friends…
There are those who consider them bulky
There are those who love them madly
And put dozens of them!
They become part of your experience;
They take on the smell of home;
They have something of security.

Pillow: beloved companion of sleepless nights….
When you turn one side then the other,
When you sink into it
In search of your memories and your dreams;
It absorbs your tears
You hold it to you, it listens to your stories
Giving you the tenderness and uplifting consolation.
And when the sleep is peaceful and deep,
It disappears, you don’t even feel it,
It understands you don’t need it, it becomes discreet.
But it is your friend in your lazy relaxing afternoons,
Reading or silently looking at the ceiling,
Or with closed resting eyes,
Releasing confidences or cuddling your baby.
In the sweetness of a short nap too,
It supports your tired head and erases worries.
It whispers and slowly sings in your ears.
A pillow is smell, is touch, is texture.
And when you were a child
It was an object of play and some ‘quarrels’
Between brothers and sisters:
There were used as balloons in laughing ‘battles’,
As a puppet, as a table at times.

I love my pillow that I feel ‘mine’
Even more so when it just changed its case
And smells freshly washed.

Please, don’t take my pillow away from me!
YES, as someone said:

(नमस्कार ! एउटा कुरा भनौं है, तपाईं पनि लेख्नु न । जीवन र जीवनसँग सम्बन्धित कुनै पनि कुरा लेख्नु । नेपालनाम्चा तपाईंको मिडिया साथी त हो । र, यसको इमेल हो । यही इमेलमा आफ्नो परिचय, फोटोसहित आफ्ना मनका अनेक कुरा, सबै कुरा पठाउनुहोला ।)

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