the pen ruined us...our childhood...

i wonder why i started writing with a pen... it was different earlier. when i used to write on slate with chalk. mum taught me, she said it was ok if i made mistakes, i could always rub it and start all anew... afterall, we all learn by making mistakes. i rubbed n wrote, rubbed n wrote, rubbed n wrote until both the legs of A became proportionate, until i could make the perfect half rounds for B and a flawless curve for C. D, P n R weren't that difficult once i got past B. G n S were the toughest to learn n i hated them. but mum said i could always rub n write... once in a while she would rub the slate with a wet cloth, n it would become as good as new. i liked its cool surface then, i would press my cheek against it n absorb the cold. it felt just like her hands when she came out of the kitchen...

then  i started writing on paper with pencil. it was good, i felt like a grown up. i was but a bit upset when i learnt i wasn't allowed to make as many mistakes as before. i would have to be careful. in case i made a mistake, i could erase, but it would leave a faint shadow behind, which was not very welcome. i tried my best, tried to become perfect at every stroke, started to make tails for "a" and "c" and "p" and so on. mistakes were still rectifiable, n unless anyone made a deep scrutiny, my copies were more or less clean.

the excitement started to grow as the time for writing with a pen approached nearer n nearer. so many varieties in the market, i simply could not decide which to use as my first... it was a big thing you know, writing with a pen! what excitement, what joy, what fun would it be!! my first was a "WING-SUNG" ink pen, i had put "CHELPARK" ink in it. now, all the excitement apart, i was adviced to be very careful of what i wrote, no mistakes were accepted any longer, coz what once done could never be undone. i realised, i grew up... i cannot rub n write, rub n write, rub n write. i cud always cut it, but that would make a deep, unforgiving mark on my paper. 

no longer was life crystal clear. no longer was i young enough to make mistakes n learn, no longer wud faults remain mild shadows behind corrected words, but every mistake would remain dark, n unforgiving.  I wonder, why did i ever start writing with a pen, why did the blissful years of slate n chalk pass away... why did pencil-years become fast fading? why can't i rub n write, rub n write, rub n write? why can't she clean it for me with a wet cloth,  make the slate cool n soothing anymore...

 
 P.S - I am participating in Share Life Blogger Contest(sponsored by  Tata Docomo) under the category My friends. My life. My phone.