Dipped in Blue Ink
Words have been my best friend from as long as I can remember. From the ragged, untidy writing in pencil to the swift, sure strokes of a pen today, I have been able to capture my life in the eternal memory of a paper. As a child, when I should have been fascinated by the new edition of Malibu Barbie, my curiosity was enraptured by the magic created by the words of Shakespeare – and I knew, with the innocence of someone who can still count their age on their five fingers; that one day, I wanted to create such magic.
I believe, that if any, my talent would be – my words.
Words can prove to be a great weapon in the time of need, provide shelter when all your defenses weaken, become your ally when your strength falters – words can take down a man, and lift him back up again.
The thought, just the mere thought of how a blank sheet is just a meaningless piece of paper till it has been written on, is in itself, wondrous. When it has been touched by the pointed end of a pen, then and only then, does it gain a worth; by absorbing one’s thoughts and feelings dipped in blue ink. It does not remain just a paper, but a part of you. Real, tangible. Out there, for everyone to see.
In some ways, writing requires courage. One is necessitated to open up and invite people to judge, no matter how distasteful the aftermath. In some ways, writers could be called heroes – some braver than others.
If it had not been for my words, I would have gone unnoticed by my English Language professor back in A levels who got me an interview with the administrator, and after much shortlisting, my words in my personal essay led me to be the only girl selected from Lahore and one of the six delegates to represent Pakistan in the United States of America in the annual Women to Women Conference, taking place in Boston, Massachusetts.
The experience that followed was obviously, unforgettable. The stark cultural and religious difference was bridged together through words of friendship and love; and remarkable bonds were created.
Your words can take you to a lot of places, both physically and mentally.
Hence, I would like to conclude with a self-supported belief – A man is capable of being robbed of everything but his words; a truly unfortunate man is a man of no words.
As Confucius says, “Words are the voice of the heart”
I suggest, you sing.