I’ve been together with him since his childhood. A stationery boy – how can he evict the company of a pen? Though I have changed my form an uncountable number of times, I’ve watched him grow up from his childhood to teenage times.
He never realized my company until he reached the ninth standard. When he was in the eighth standard, he happened to meet a friend who read books and wrote stories. Fascinated and inspired by the friend, he decided to try reading those bulky books. This, I guess, is the prologue to the acknowledgement of my company.
In the ninth standard, he got a school project of writing a story and he wanted it to be the best. He spent a lot of time with me trying to plot a story. As it was his maiden attempt, his wasn’t satisfied with his work. After that, I hoped he would spend his time trying to improve, but he never spent time with me except while doing his homework.
A year passed. I kept changing my forms and stayed beside him motionless, waiting for him to acknowledge my companionship as he grew up. Puberty, mid-adolescence, from school to high school, a lot changed in his life. His friends became distant friends, once a family distorted completely and once a home became a broken home.
I watched him turn into an isolated, lonely, depressed and sensitive teen from an innocent, creative and happy child: I knew my time was coming.
I’ve seen him falling in love – hopelessly. I’ve wrote his love letters, his love stories, his fantasies, his dreams, his goals. When he was left heartbroken, I’ve written his sorrows, his agony. I’ve written about his broken family and his shattered heart. I’ve written all his unsaid words.
Now, as he is left alone and couldn’t find even a pair of ears to actually listen, he has fully realized me.
Things are getting bad to worse. Every now and then, he seeks my company. I like it when he spends time writing with me but when he is with me, almost every time, there is some internal suffering.
At some point, I know my company will not be enough to keep him together. Even now, he smells of burnt tobacco occasionally and sometimes even worse. Circumstances don’t seem to get any better and I could feel him giving up to change it.
Everyone should speak up for themselves but what if someone gets exhausted? Exhausted of screaming and yet no one listening.