Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The Red Pen

I felt his hand shiver. The same shiver that run down my back. Every time he wrote on the page of my life, his hand shivered. The same shiver. The blacks, the blues, the greens – all were beginning to look dull on my page. Their lustre was wearing off.
Perhaps that is why he wanted to write with his red pen. But his hand was shivering. Again. He stared at my page. I thought I saw him stare. I definitely felt the pause. A barren phase. A morbid stagnation that halted me, my life.
All of a sudden, I felt the friction. The philandering of the nib on paper. On my page. But words did not form. Not even letters. Instead it blotted. A bright drop of red ink, spreading consciously, stubbornly across the page. The paper glistened in red.
The lustre had returned.
Only, in a different shade.


kichu / കിച്ചു said...


good works..

keep on writing..let black rose change to red, blue, yellow, orange and so on... :)

all the best.

aneeshans said...

Nice. u write well. all the best wishes. keep going on

നജൂസ്‌ said...

A bright drop of red ink,
keep writing

Oviya said...

Hellos,loved this piece.Poetic and beautiful.I could interpret only half the subtle meanings it conveys but its beautiful,that I can say.:)

Kaithamullu said...

the feeble life did not prolong as the red pen drained itself!


G o v i n d said...

touching words !
kudos to u !

dethsoul said...

Hey nicely done..... i could feel your urge to connect to your loved one!!! ...

if you have time check out my blog!

Anu Joshy said...

Awesome my dear !!!......never knew u write so well,...keep writing..

Anu Joshy said...

Awesome my dear !!!......never knew u write so well,...keep writing..