I, the Pencil

by Amit


My name is Wilkinson and I just landed in the Southern Hemisphere. The journey from the United Kingdom was quite hectic. Arghh. I mean what do I tell these stupid people at the Sydney airport. As if travelling for 20+ hours in a bag was not enough, they had to lock down the airport at 11.00 PM. God’s sake! I had to spend all the hours sitting on a chair at Sydney Airport and then finally reached home of my new master. He has kept me on his table. He is sleeping now, so I thought why not tell the world about my story via his blog.

I, the Pencil

I already told you my name and that I am coming from UK. But, I don’t know exactly where I was born. I was in this shop in London – hanging out with my friends when this guy suddenly comes and buys me. I mean- that’s it? Anybody a dime’s worth can just come and buy me?  I don’t know.

May be I shouldn’t have been so cute looking with this red nose and red hair – I still remember that evening when this wood shop guy was decorating me all over. I was kind of happy to see myself, though. But little did I know that even cuteness had a price. Well, reflecting on that – I think everything has a price, its always a zero sum game- you get something, you lose something. Those long chats I used to have with my pals back in the shop made me realize how trivial life can be – even that of a pencil. Hey, don’t laugh – I am alive. I have a life too. See, else how could I tell you my story? You just have to listen carefully to everything around you. They all have stories. I have been probably made out of wood – for which a tree was cut down – now I hear tree preservation is a big deal these days? Funny how humans think and do, they first create problems, and then they try to solve it which creates many other problems. Now, if i wouldn’t be made, how would you write? Yeah okay, I know you have pens – but still comeon Pencil has its own charm – the charcoal black color on paper as you scribble your notes is quite a sight. You can even erase me, if you don;t like me. You wish life was like that, don’t you? Erase all your mistakes – but then if you knew you could erase all your mistakes,  you would commit more mistakes. I know you well.

Being a pencil is obviously not the greatest of things – but again, I don’t think I would have wanted to be a human being – not in their current form atleast. They fight, they scream, they howl, they lie and they pretend – such a ugly group of creatures. If God has given you guys so much of intellect, the ability to think, why don’t you use it for the good reasons? Why bother fighting, when all of you will end up dead? You are not going to live forever, are you? So, why not do some good when you are alive? Look at me, my existence is limited to the pencil bags but  I am happy that I am a useful object when used with care – kids and grown-up use me to write their homework, assignments, projects, draw beautiful diagrams and who knows the greatest of ideas might have their humble beginnings with a scribbling on a paper made by me. I, however can be dangerous if not used carefully – you can even use me to hurt people. I remember this school of one of my masters, where the children were sometimes punished by slipping me between their fingers and then holding the fingers together so as to hurt them. I hated it so much. But, I couldn’t just slip out – could I? One of those moments I wished I was alive and a little free to move around. But again, I don’t know I might have done bad things if I had that freedom.

Hey, my master is waking up. I better go back to my designated point in this universe. I think I am going to get a trim sometime soon. Looking forward to shine bright!

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