Journey of a Writer

Scribbling at random on walls, crawls into the slate

The scribbles of odd shapes curve into letters,

Chalks used to engrave, half eaten, succumb to pencils

And slate is swapped by notebooks with four liners.

The four line notebook pages mark beginning of journey,

From letters in lower case then letters in upper case.

Then letters show way to words, “A for Apple” & “B for Boy”,

The words reshuffle and soon generate a sentence.

“This is a rat” & “That is a cat” fit in between the four lines,

And the complexities fill in with nouns, verbs and a lot more.

Adjectives, prepositions adorn the simple sentences,

And present tense can’t suffice the need of verbal downpour.

Effortless sentences bear the weight of tenses,

And the soon we realise past in not just past.

Past perfect, comes into picture to our amazement,

Soon pencil tips break and fine nibs stand steadfast.

The four lines shrink to one lines, sharpners make way for bottle of ink.

So are fancy pencil boxes crammed with blotting papers and old cloth.

Insight that mistakes cannot be rubbed of nor can be overwritten,

Reveal the incompetence of erasers and life’s first lesson is taught.

The fingers blotted with ink grow to be more skilled,

And so do the copious expressions and bountiful array of thoughts.

Writing on parchments seems ancient and perishing,

And digital notebooks bid farewell to paper, pens and ink blots.

Space for writing & overwriting sentences gets colossal,

They are not mere sorted words but expressions carved.

The lines of orderly words get intricate and so do the thoughts,

Inscribed pages belch while the sense-datum remains starved.