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Autobiography of a pen
Short essay on Autobiography of a pen.
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Autobiography of pen
I am a pen, I am blue , and I have black ink. In this educating world I’m very essential to every people. I remember the fist time I was manufacturing in a factory, there are so many types of pen there like-ball pen, gel pen, Fancy pen. I still remember the machine who made me, it was a very big machine so many people were working on it. After I was completely made they put me in box with my many pens. I’m a gel pen, so I put in the box with other gel pens. I’m a very fancy pen so my price was really high. My box is put in truck . After several days I reach a shopping mall. I was placed in the study counter of a shop with other pens. In my first day I saw many people who came near me and put me in their hands. Most of the time I saw young people and kids with their parents who probably came to buy pen. I spent a week in the shopping counter but after two days a sweet girl and her mother come near me they pick me and took me to the counter, they bought me. I remember she is my owner and her name is Maya. I love her so much she always took good care of me. Always placed me in her pencil box. She never threw me or hit, even she changed my refill when it gets over. But suddenly one day every thing change she started neglecting me, she hardly wrote with me. After few days passed she was like not looked at me at all. After few days passed I saw her mother checking her box, and she told her I’m so dirty and old now, so it’s better if she throws me and bought a new pen. I really felt very sad. Next day they threw me at the trash can. After some time a truck full of trash came and pour me into their back. The truck through me in a hole of garbage. I heard that they today melt the garbage . So I’m totally be destroyed today. This is my story.
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I was manufactured with nearly thousands of twins, who looked exactly like me and have the same feature. I was styled in a green outlook but would write in blue, my nib was thin and the design of my cap was very delicate for which I was very famous in the market. I used to write with a very smooth buttery texture for which people especially students kept me aside to write special things. Soon after manufacture I was placed in a plastic box which was then wrapped by a cardboard packaging and was arranged with my other friends in a huge cartoon.
We travelled from the manufacturing factory to a storage of a wholesale market and from there we were divided. I with some of my friends went to a tiny retail stationary shop. And one fine day a sweet girl came up to the shop and asked for a nice blue pen, the shopkeeper displayed me along with some other pens, but the girl at once grabbed me and she brought me home.
In the first day I was there in my packaging. In the second day she took me out with great care tried me on a piece of paper and at once loved me. She then placed me in her pen stand this was my new home. I use to write for her wherever she needed and she handled me with great care and respect. Days were passing by and one such day while I was writing with the girl some English assignment of her’s my ink did end; she took a look at my refill and understood the fact. She further capped me bid me a good bye and put me out for recycling. This was all about my short beautiful life.
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I don’t know who am I. On the day they created me they called me ‘blue pen’. I have a long and thin body and had a cap on my tip. My tip was nailed with ink. A machine took me and put me in a box. In that box i see many others like me, everyone looks like me, like a twin. I surprised how it happen? A pen told that it is because of the machine that we made. And now the owner collect us to a shop for selling us. I asked him why they selling us? And what are our duties? He said that there is a group named humans, they need us to write and draw for their wish. To be their weapon is our duties. We must do what they wish. After our ink get empty they threw out us. We became useless. Oh god. At that time i heard a sound the owner of us and other one were saying about us. The new shop owner set up us infront of his shop. One day a man and brought me. I say goodbye to my friends.
The shopkeeper cover me in a plastic bag. I can’t take breath. After sometime later the man who choose me opened the cover and took me out. I feel happy. I tried to say something to him. Unfortunately he won’t reply. I don’t know why. But he talking to other people in that room. He took me and a paper board and went out he sits in a garden. I am happy because he is going to use me. I am waiting for a long time. But he won’t write with me. Won’t write anything. This was repeated for a few days. Later one day he tries to write something then he enjoyed the writing. For a long time i am working with his hand. One day my refill gets empty. I stopped working. But my owner doesn’t threw me out. He sets me in a show case . One day his friends come here and my owner present me by saying that ‘i wrote the story with this pen which I got award recently’. I feel proud. At that time i wish to see who were with me in the show case. I saw six pens and many awards there.
