Is a beautiful writing pad of fine glazed paper, with an emblem on the left top side of each sheet of the paper of the pad, and also on the cover? My cover on top is a thick glazed pink paper with the same emblem in the centre of the cover.
Each sheet of my pad body is a beautiful shining glazed fine paper with a silky finish, and on each sheet of the pad, there are lines drawn for the convenience of writing straight.
The colour of the sheets of the pad is light pink, and with the emblem in navy blue, each sheet is a treat to the eyes. In order to keep my body well knit in complete togetherness, at the back of my body there is a thick cardboard which serves as my backbone and keeps me straight and without wrinkles. This appearance of mine is beautiful, colourful, sober and compact.
My mistress Miss Veena, who is a teacher in a public school, got me as a present from her school and Oh! Yes, I think the emblem all strewn over my body is the school emblem.
I was presented to her on her fiftieth birthday which also coincided with twenty five years of her service in the school. Together with me, she also got pink envelopes possibly hundred of them in two packets, the envelopes also have the emblem on each one of them. I am a pad of; I think two hundred sheets, from which number, probably only twenty sheets have been used up, in the last one year, ever since I was presented to her.
I have a lovely mistress who adores me and loves me, as she treats me with great caution, and uses me very sparingly. This gives me the impression that my mistress does not want me to finish, and gives me a thrill to realise how much I am loved.
At times I also feel lonely because, instead of keeping me with other papers and books and files on her study table, Miss keeps me huddled up all alone in the right hand drawer of her study table. As she is still teaching in the school, her table is always stacked with books, exercise books for correction and other papers so, I find no place in the open or in the forefront, I am always sitting alone in the drawer with no one to look at or to talk to.
Thus, though I am beautiful to look at, as I understand from the comments of my mistress only, I am condemned to stay indoors as though I had some defects, and would not like to be seen by anyone. At times, months go past and I am not even touched by the loving hands of the mistress and this makes me feel depressed.
However, at times I even feel elated at the thought that, may be as I am so beautiful, my mistress keeps me away from the eyes of envy of all those who may come from time to time into the study room. When this thought comes, I forget my sorrow of being dumped alone inside a dark and dingy drawer. At the same time I feel so jealous of those ugly looking copies taking the front seats on her table but alas, what cannot be cured has got to be endured.
When my mistress has to write a letter to her male friends, to her parents or to anyone she loves a lot, she pulls out a sheet from my body of the pad and writes lovingly on them. Her writing also is more like a print, and her hand and touch ever so soft. This touch of hers gives me a feeling of love and care. I begin to feel that she brackets me with all those she loves dearly, and it is only for them she uses me, and aha what a wave of thrill passes through my entire being.
I am enjoying my life thoroughly as my mistress is very loving and treats me with great care, and uses me with love and for loved ones. Yes, I agree all this makes me feel on top of the world but, at times I feel suffocated inside the drawer which is absolutely air tight and sound tight. Together with all this, when I seriously think about my future, I feel happy that I am being used sparingly, for, only if I am used very rarely will I last for any length of time, and my life span will become longer.
If I am used at a great speed, I will expire very soon. Oh! God, I dread that day when all the two hundred sheets will be exhausted and only my cardboard end will remain.
That day will be my last day as, then my mistress will throw me oh, no my skeleton into the waste paper basket lying under her study table, and that will be the end of my life and my career.
It is for this reason I thank my mistress for using me only occasionally. Even though I am getting exasperated with a near solitary confinement I am happy that at least I am loved and retained rather than used up and finished. After all I realise that life is not really bad, we cannot get everything – for getting something some other thing has got to be sacrificed. This thought gives me a balance and I feel quite happy with what life has given me.