Pen Pencil Paper

I miss the good old days of writing on a piece of paper or a notebook with a half-chewed off pencil or a much abused pen in my hand.

I miss my school days when I used to sit by the window watching the rain. Sometimes pouring down in torrents, sometimes blowing gently with the breeze. I used to love watching the trees getting wet and the water drops sliding slowly off the leaves. Standing by my window, with the breeze spraying my face with gentle splashes of water, I started writing poetry for the first time. Being my first muse, the rain still holds a special place in my heart.

I remember when our English teacher used to give us some new essay topic; I used to rush home to get cracking. I only had to put the pen to paper and the words used to start flowing, flooding sometimes. Ah, the joys of writing!

Time passed and English was ousted from the list of important subjects in junior college. It was in fact banished to the list of 'will buy the textbook one day before the exams, if I get anytime off from the Big Three (read Physics, Chemistry, Maths)' subjects. So no more tons of essay and story-writing. But I didn't let go. In 12th  I used to commute all the way between Vile Parle and Dadar to attend coaching classes, by bus. Fortunately for me the bus passed from the Bandra sea face where I found my second muse. The sea! I can still feel the tidal wave of emotions that the sea invoked in me those days and the endless number of poems I composed then, some while sitting/standing in the bus. That's the handy thing about pen, pencil and papers. You can get down to exactly what you wanna do anytime, anyplace. Some will say the same holds true for laptops, but well how many students in India carry laptops?

I might still have a couple of those poems, but I dare not read them. I'm afraid they'll make me way too nostalgic. In school that was just a word I used because it sounded nice and fancy and grown-up somehow. Now I know what it really means. Isn't it ironic how in those days we all couldn't wait to grow up and now that we have grown-up, we miss our childhood?

Years passed and I barely wrote, until the recent past. I was consumed by a sudden inspiration, a yearning to to write again. And here I am sitting in front of my PC, staring at the screen , struggling with the keyboard to type faster. I can't help but remember the good old days of a simple pen and paper. No fancy blogs, no colors, no audio-visuals to jazz things up. Simply penning away your thoughts. THAT felt like writing. This feels like typing and God knows, even after all these years, my typing speed sucks!!!