The Broken Headphones

I love music, so naturally I am very fond of headphones. The nice ‘filters’ cut out the noises and babbles of the outside world, reflecting only what I want to hear. Such is my love for the tiny ‘speaker’ that I put them on when sleeping. It is relaxing and good for me, but very much traumatic for the headphones. They are tangled and stretched as I toss and turn in my sleep (which is not very rare). I never paid attention to the oppression until one day; I realized they had become the mangled corpse of a formerly glorious body. The wires were all out and visible; the magnets did not work; and one fine day the jack stopped working too. So I went out and bought a new pair, this time being careful not to repeat my previous actions. “To err is human”; I soon found myself repeating the same mistake. The poor ones survived though; they tore at places and I fixed that up with duct tape (there’s nothing that a bit duct tape cannot fix). One day, however, I realized they were giving up, slowly transitioning into the state of their ancestor. Unwilling to let them suffer, I minimized use. And unwilling to let any other ones suffer; I did not buy a new pair. As of today, I plug them in, and spend a good amount of time adjusting the minor configurations so I get the music to my ear. With my fingers always on them, I easily look like a laughable idiot in public.

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