Letter to Air-Conditioner

Going by 'what's trending' on a spread of any virtual social-feed, I should have had just one word in this letter for you, with a hashtag of course -- saviour.

Dear, dear, oh loveliest dear AC,

When you whined last night, I knew nothing was wrong. It was just your ingenious plan to address my fleeting attention towards the fact that you are yet to receive one. I am sorry, dearest. You know how I become with the soaring temperature, don't you? And in that one moment of madness when I return to my most cozy spot in the world, it is you who relieves me of my ostentatious insanity. And thus the 'saviour'. 

Over a period of time, I have come to terms with certain things I will never understand. Like, the construction of a bridge over sea, or the workings of a constant fountain, or, if you condition the air, can you also work as a heater in winter? No one takes my inquiries seriously. Perhaps they feel I fake the concern. Well, I am a lazy person, and it is arduous for me to lie. To lie is to remember, and continue a lie, which is outright difficult. And with that same bluntness I avow my love.

When you were a commodity of luxury, dear AC, I used to gape in amazement at your constant fanning and cooling in the homes of the rich relatives. You stood out as an ugly instrument of intriguing delight. The noise incurred at your expense brought back memories of a broncho infected childhood. Your wonder was more wondrous than pretty toys or flashy report cards. It feels silly now but I have had so many study sessions day-dreaming about you, involuntarily. You felt like a space exploration.

Slowly, your commonness grounded your need, and thankfully as your presence multiplied, so did your beauty. I remember getting you for my room -- my specifications loaded with clarity. You needed to be a certain shade of grey, unassuming and classic. And you must come from a family of expertise, blueblood. As you were being installed, I could not come to terms with the explosion of emotions within. I was swelling with pride that I could finally afford you, but I was also flying like a child, happy at having waited long enough for an entire childhood and finally being able to exercise my control with the press of a remote button. You became one of those rare things that made me pleased with myself. 

And then I bought one of you for the folks. You opportuned for me to provide a certain level of comfort to them. How amazing were you. Today, you are, and I am not exaggerating, a part of me. You understand with the silent finesse of a friend, you comfort with the competence of an athlete and most importantly, your solid standing fills me up with a supreme happiness. Like most of art, I cannot explain the why, perhaps it is just an emotional connect.

Frankly, I do not care about environment issues. This letter goes your way to thank you for all those months of sweltering humidity that you made possible to live through. This letter says thank you in the most genuine manner possible, and this letter hopes to convey what you mean to me. Without you, I am just a staling, stinking bundle of flesh. In your compact care, I regain my soul, my taste, my existence.

You are the Coolest!

K.