Thursday, 16 May 2013

The Pen Knows Not


I am a pen. I write. I decorate the paper with various styles. Recently I did some cursive work and believe you me it was fantastic. I can write about anything one can and cannot imagine. Mostly I deal with feelings, a heavy range. From love, anger and joy to dark, bizarre and alien. I find myself busy when topics like nature, god, politics and business are discussed.

I have been wondering for some time now about questions. Umpteenth questions come across when I am put to paper. Millions of them and some are very common like, what should I do, why is this happening, why me, how can he/she do this to me, where is god etc. I don’t like questions anymore, not because of the sudden increase in their number but because most are left unanswered. Just imagine how I feel with endless questions staring at my face along with that twisted question mark.

Oh! I have a question now…where are all the answers?

Anyways, my job is not that bad. In reality, I adore my work. Maybe that’s why I know calmness. I have good, light moments; I happily keep a secret a secret; meeting every emotion is in itself a great reward for me; I get to know a whole lot of things, you know science things. What I really-really relish is when I scribble and make faces on the margin of a sheet or the last page of a copy. I get a feeling at that moment of being with someone else, a connection, shared exclusively with me. Like I am in a vacuum with a confused mind or a happy smile or an angry look or a scared soul or a naughty remark and this gives me wings to fly.

Ha! Funny me!

I don’t know when I may dry, on which word, which feeling, so I keep my spirits up almost always as I already said I never know….



My Time

My time. My time to rule and regain. My time to change and develop. My time to cashback. My time to realise the certainty. My time to live...