Between a moment in the past and a life time in the future – I simply choose the past.
Between a sound from the golden ages and a non-stop beat of nowadays so-called-hypocrisy – I surely single out the former.
Thus, it's like the return of the cub to its lioness – the mother. The retreat of the foam of the ebbing wave, the daily yearning of trees and leaves to the yawning morning sun, - I passed my hand upon and among my pens, pencils, fountain pens, and quills.. picked one, an easy going one, and started scribbling my thoughts upon a whitely-clear pad.
After the long absence of such a habit, my fingers are moving upon the plain papers with wonder and astonishment. Little they know that both my PC and laptop are damaged (thanks to a friend’s corrupted obscene photo) and are in need of formatting! Yet, I am not that annoyed, as if I am always online, or has to be continuously connected to the world behind.
Again, between a paper and a screen, I choose a paper, and naturally between a Pen and a Button, I can’t but avoid the latter.
I began writing from a long time. My first mystery story was at the age of 10. It came out as a challenge between my father and I. He forbade me to read any mystery story during the scholastic year, so, I replied, “If you don’t want me to read stories, I shall write ones”. And the trigger was pressed!
I still have the first draft of that first offspring.. It is very weird to read yourself 10 years later.. So simple life... So naïve! The moments were filled with innocence and faults.
But loving the stationeries was much before. The reason was because I did nott use to go out of the house, so, I created my Silent World, which was necessarily going to be filled with Silent Items. I invited color to my life through Crayons, Pastels, Colored Ink pots, and other stuff. I invited shapes and figures to my life via different kinds of pens with various tips. And I was skillful at the art.
Too skillful, in fact!
Between a sound from the golden ages and a non-stop beat of nowadays so-called-hypocrisy – I surely single out the former.
Thus, it's like the return of the cub to its lioness – the mother. The retreat of the foam of the ebbing wave, the daily yearning of trees and leaves to the yawning morning sun, - I passed my hand upon and among my pens, pencils, fountain pens, and quills.. picked one, an easy going one, and started scribbling my thoughts upon a whitely-clear pad.
After the long absence of such a habit, my fingers are moving upon the plain papers with wonder and astonishment. Little they know that both my PC and laptop are damaged (thanks to a friend’s corrupted obscene photo) and are in need of formatting! Yet, I am not that annoyed, as if I am always online, or has to be continuously connected to the world behind.
Again, between a paper and a screen, I choose a paper, and naturally between a Pen and a Button, I can’t but avoid the latter.
I began writing from a long time. My first mystery story was at the age of 10. It came out as a challenge between my father and I. He forbade me to read any mystery story during the scholastic year, so, I replied, “If you don’t want me to read stories, I shall write ones”. And the trigger was pressed!
I still have the first draft of that first offspring.. It is very weird to read yourself 10 years later.. So simple life... So naïve! The moments were filled with innocence and faults.
But loving the stationeries was much before. The reason was because I did nott use to go out of the house, so, I created my Silent World, which was necessarily going to be filled with Silent Items. I invited color to my life through Crayons, Pastels, Colored Ink pots, and other stuff. I invited shapes and figures to my life via different kinds of pens with various tips. And I was skillful at the art.
Too skillful, in fact!
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