Ink

Enchanting is the way to put it, the feel of the pen within your hand, held delicately between each of your fingers like an intricate, sterling instrument. Such a small object, yet so much power within it, the ability to rewrite and create entire worlds, cosmic universes infused within it. Realities are created instantly with a single thought and a stroke of my wrist. A feeling received every time, a surge of immense adrenaline rushing through the rivers that are my veins, spreading to my whole body and filling me with energy, repeating the process with each thought I choose to lay out on the paper, ink drawn into the spaces between the repeating congruous lines. Yet it is wild, the words splay joyously around the page, not a care about the harmony each letter creates with another, imagination expanding every second, the letters flowing out of the pen before the thought arrives within my mind, rhythmic movements followed by my forearm as I wield my sword of imagination, with doubt as my only enemy. I do not pause, the battle continues, a story being laid out in front of my very eyes like the footpath to a glorious haven. The ink seeps into the smooth material, becoming one with the page, imprinting itself and exclaiming itself concrete and existent. The words keep flowing, like the waterfalls of the wild, the unstoppable beauty of nature unleashed as thoughts in my mind, an endless stream of words, each matching with the one before it as if pieces of an enormous literary puzzle. The end nears as I feel the adrenaline fade away, as I grow closer to the climax of my creative process. The swiftness draws back and an elegant motion laces up the final words and ends the story, the pen leaving the page only to place the period at the denouement. I look at the stygian dark letters and smile, knowing that in placing my feelings into the process, I had lain myself bare on a single page, almost magically.

Himesh Kumar Behera