When did I write the first time? Long back, so long back that the contents have vanished, even from the memory. But what's reminiscent, is the memories of the anguish, pain, hurt that followed.I'd call that my first brush with reality.
It was a competition, a story to be written, a prize for the top three. I wrote from the heart, it turned out perfect, maybe too perfect, a bit beyond my year's. I was ecstatic, till the wheels turned around.
I was summoned, the gathering, august, for all that I respected were there, my teachers, parents.
A voice broke the silence - this , is great, well written.
Me - thanks,
The voice - tell the truth, where did you copy from?
Me- I froze, disbelief, hurt, bewildered. Tears welled, throat dried.
The voice - tell the truth.
Me - I wrote. I scan the faces, the truth had lost.
I moved ahead, took the papers, tore them to shreds, turned around and walked away.
The silence lasted for years, for I never picked up the pen, till the time my core was touched again.
It was a competition, a story to be written, a prize for the top three. I wrote from the heart, it turned out perfect, maybe too perfect, a bit beyond my year's. I was ecstatic, till the wheels turned around.
I was summoned, the gathering, august, for all that I respected were there, my teachers, parents.
A voice broke the silence - this , is great, well written.
Me - thanks,
The voice - tell the truth, where did you copy from?
Me- I froze, disbelief, hurt, bewildered. Tears welled, throat dried.
The voice - tell the truth.
Me - I wrote. I scan the faces, the truth had lost.
I moved ahead, took the papers, tore them to shreds, turned around and walked away.
The silence lasted for years, for I never picked up the pen, till the time my core was touched again.
