PEN AND PAPER; Sketches from my past(pepa)

Pen and paper,they say,the source of all knowledge(I used to think it was the fear of God though),the route of growth.Pen and paper,the pace of success,pen and paper,all the foundation you would ever need,I wonder what happened to concrete and mortar though.Pen and paper,I see it now,looking all decisive,all creative and even pre-emptive.

Pen and paper,the sound of sweet relief.If only I knew,when teacher stressed and never relented,to the extent of rod in hand and in most rare cases,ruler to the edge,it was 30cms,I still recall to date,in retrospect,sounds like the edge of a sword.

As trail goes,O may I not loose myself in thoughts clayed in reflections of days past…let not a replay button get lost,all go so fast and fade like a cloud,so high and lofty you can’t attain unto it,let alone fight or in any case beat it.Those memories linger of the Mrs. leaning on the table’s edge,pin-stripped blouse and a blue crispy skirt,they couldn’t do pencils ‘cuz they was teachers.

My trail runs wide so may I not,in memory lose path,or outside classroom stray.As the mind wanders right out the door of class,to the sound of break-time bell,ring ring it goes,harsher than that of bleating goats..my eyes stray outside into the view of children running out,clad in beautiful beige shorts and checked brown shirts,who even thought of such a uniform?

Well,in lost thoughts,my stomach rumbles,making me aware of the inadequacies there before;not that it did with much but it couldn’t contain the thought of fresh-calling breakfast milk smell.And not that I would get a share ;- I am in class three,these days they called grade,hahaha the dynamics of www. A big boy as it is,the teachers said.If only my brain was as equally big and could smell beyond the warm kindergarten milk into tomorrow,into the future,into true beauty,for only beauty could save the beast huh,into…..”John,John!!!”

The teacher’s voice wakes me from my straying thoughts. YES MA’AM,a deep stare and a realisation that my wandering mind needs relief.So for once and contrary to relative trend I am let loose to my wiles.

So pen and paper finds hole of refuge,becomes solace of the heart,ceases to be a spit of ink through the tip of a draining nib.Pen and paper stops being a means to an end,no longer a means to employment but accentuates into the employment itself.

Pen and paper it is,the beauty of warmth,like a heartbeat of its own,flowing from the elements hence finding a home and resting in a heart.

Pen and paper joins with the soul creating union in form of habitation.Pen and paper,pen and paper.The flow ceases and beauty takes control,she takes root and a flower is born.Pen and paper,no longer is it the caress of a nib upon the lines of whiteness,she grows into actual tenderness and caress of the heart,soul and mind.

Pen and paper,so pen and paper takes route and grows roots deep down into the rocks almost hitting bottom and thus sets course for the laying down of foundation.And just at the brink of failure plus loss of contact,a real connection with reality,there she gains ground and maintains focus.

The noise all around escalates to dumb founding and she almost gets lost in her own thoughts,all muffled up by the shouts,screams and more so the discouragement without.

So from point of confusion and plying the edge of discouragement,she sips of the juice of failure,of mistakes undertaken and of the dirt of the ground.She lets all that juice right through her broken roots,right up her perforated shoots and soon failure lays foundation of strong stamina and unwavering stems,though beaten and shaken.

Soon failure grows from discouragement into encouragement.She grows into hope and her flowers into the ultimate scent of victory.The same flowers rooted in failure attracts the bees of recognition creating and aroma of prosperity.

The noises that screamed her down now rejoice or are they screaming for recognition?

And so pen and paper must not loose her cool nor focus for she knows,she knows her roots were bedded in the discouragements hence only humility can hold those foundations together.

Pen and paper….

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