By Ganapathi Gayathri
In a vintage floral treasure chest box,a young pen resided.He was all glittery gold,sharp and bold.He yearned for a purpose,a story to tell,poems and letters to etch,and a heart to touch.
While across the corner of a dusty desk lived a paper,a surface of pristine white,bright and quiet.She ached to be filled,to be a part of something beautiful that would bloom upon her.
One day,a writer's hand brought them together.A jolt of excitement and thrill ran through them both.Pen,began to glide and danced his heart out leaving a trail of scintillating sapphire swirls and weaving cute little hearts,stars and flowers in margins to put a smile on the paper.Paper,once felt blank,drank in the ink,every letter a shared dream,a language only they understood.With each complete sentence,the paper giggled,bloomed and blushed beautifully in blue.Sparks flew between them.
There are days when the restless Pen pours it's love in scripts of gentle spins or intimate curves by pulling her close or numbering it's wishlists to come true or it's fears in trembling lines to be caressed or
lamenting its losses in fading ink to be held by her.The paper,a patient listener,being a canvas of warmth,promised to embrace the shared journey.
Pen wouldn't have found its voice without the paper's unwavering support.
Paper would be forever a blank space without Pen's words.
They found each other in the love story they co-authored.
Pen and Paper,a perfect twine
Love in every letter,line by line.
By Ganapathi Gayathri
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