The Notebook and the Pen

Dedicated to my friend and fellow poetry enthusiast, Amrita Nair. Thanks for the idea!

notebook and pen

I am a hardbound notebook

100 Paged and new

Glistening inside my plastic wrap

I’m coveted by many

but afforded by few

I steal people’s hearts

at the very first glance

with my above average looks

Buy me! Buy me! I beckon

You will never get a second chance

I know I seem perfect

but I , too, have a tiny flaw you see

And that is a small ugly pen

Ballpointed and blue

that comes with me for free

I have despised it ever since

that day we were brought together

Ungraceful and revolting

It sits by my side

Undermining my caliber

I always thought our paths

would separate once we were sold

but boy was I wrong

My owner loved the pen too

and treated it like gold

First day, first page

A chapter was slowly penned

I was appalled

How dare that unworthy thing

My magnificent pages dent

But it wouldn’t stop

No matter how much I yelled

I must do what I do, it said

And this my dear notebook

is in your best interest

Corrupting and vandalising

My being so immaculate

with its filthy ink

My frustration grew by the day

and slowly turned to hate

Word after word

Sentence after sentence

My paper crumpled in grief

I disrupted the pen’s every effort

To make peace

Though Slowly and steadily

I began to observe

The pen was losing its pace

Its move was lighter and ink pale

Losing at every phase

And one fine day

Without my knowledge

The pen was thrown away

My partner, I was informed

Had reached its end of life’s passage

I just could not believe

Emancipated, was I, at last

Nothing was in my way

My future was shining now

The worst had fortunately passed

The feeling was inexplicable

A breath of fresh air

Everything was perfect now

No more agony

No more despair

The beginning of my singledom and I wait

Expected to be showered with praise

But nobody looks my way

They don’t pick me up

And my solitude turns to loneliness in  days

Whats wrong? I wonder

Why don’t people care?

Do I have no value now?

Mere pieces of scrambled sheets

when I’m not in a pair?

Depression. Agony. Apathy

ebbing through what remains of my spine

Cobwebs and dust accumulate

inside my bosom

I cannot help but feel pain

I had everything once

But I never knew it

I was too proud to admit either way

Companionship and love

I helplessly watch as they fade

How many attempts had she made?

To share her story with me

Filled my pages with colour

Made meanings out of blank spaces

But I never bothered to see

Its all gone.

How can I possibly ask for more?

Small half-written tales

Never destined for completion

Reviving memories painful and sore

If books could cry

That is what I’d be doing

But nothing can replace my loss

Irreversible by natures design

That’s how much my ego costs

But if I could turn back the pages

and go back to the beginning

I’d swear by the Book my friend

that I’d be better

and stand by you till the end

For though you’ve run dry

You’ll be missed long after you’re gone

The ink is embedded in my heart

And a part of you, through me

Continues to live on.


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