A delightful and imaginative short story by Arica Mandal, Class 6 student of Epic Public School, where a young writer’s pen and pencil come to life and argue about their importance—until she wakes up and realises it was all a dream.
Whenever I get time, I write stories alongside my studies, and when I do that, I use both my pen and my pencil.
It is Sunday today, and I decided to write a story. So I took out my notebook and started writing with my pen. I also kept my pencil near the notebook.
But then I heard a noise. I looked around, but there was no one. I was a bit confused. I thought it must be my imagination—but no, the voice was very near and kept on saying something.
It was then that I noticed my pencil. Surprisingly, it had developed a pair of eyes and a mouth! Its lips moved as if it were trying to say something. I brought my ear close and heard the pencil say,
“Hey, why are you not using me? I know that you love to write with pens these days and ignore me completely.”
I was shocked by this strange situation—half confused, half surprised. Finally, I gathered my senses and said,
“No, how can I forget you? I haven’t forgotten about you at all. It’s just that I’m in Class 6 now, and we use pens more for our studies. Today, out of habit, I started writing the story with a pen. Please don’t mind, my dear pencil.”
But that wasn’t the end of my surprises. I saw that even my pen had developed human characteristics and said,
“Hey, you silly pencil! You’re just jealous of me, aren’t you?”
“No, I am not,” replied my pencil. “You are the one who’s jealous of me, you.”
“What? Have you lost your mind? I’m cool, I’m stylish, and I’m far more beautiful than you! I have so many qualities—I don’t need to be sharpened again and again. And look at you! Every time you need to be used, you have to be sharpened. Ha! And you say that I’m jealous?”
I thought the fight was over as the pencil went quiet. But no. After a short while, it said,
“Yes, I agree that I need to be sharpened. But what about you? So many times your ink leaks and spoils clothes. And moreover, when someone makes a mistake while writing, the words can’t be erased. You’re no better than me, you see!”
This intense argument between two of my favourite possessions was making me restless. I was not prepared to take sides, as both had their own importance in my life. Finally, I decided to stop them. I shouted,
“STOP!”
Just then, I heard, “Wake up! You have to go to school.”
It was my mother—and I realised it was just a dream.
