THE FALL OF THE PEN
The pen looked so beautiful; and he loved it dearly. He loved it because his dad had given it to him when he was first allowed to write with a pen at school. He loved it because he had excelled in all his exams and he thought it was because of this lucky pen. He loved it because so many groundbreaking articles had flowed from it in his career as a journalist.
He had always wished to be a journalist. At the dawn of his journalistic career, he was full of verve to excel in his work and had vowed to be true to his profession. But that spirit was not destined to survive long. His honest ways were not appreciated by some sections of the society.
In no time he came face to face with the bitter realities of life. The profession that he loved, the profession that he had committed himself to was getting polluted. He used to feel sorry for the people who woke up everyday to read papers that may not carry the true picture on certain issues. He had at many times felt like running away from all this. But his love for the job always held him back.
Today again he was depressed with the way the things were moving in his life and career.
Few days back he had stepped into his editor’s office. His editor had expressed the desire to see the him. The journalist stood there anticipating comments on his latest sensational story. He was, however, taken aback when the editor started mouthing strong words against him. The editor was not happy with the piece the journalist intended to get into print. The superior was unhappy because the article talked about the person whose benefaction was helping the press stand on its very foundation. Our man, however, did not wish to give up, “But the truth is truth!” he argued. “This man you are writing about is the reason that you and I are surviving today!”
“But Sir! If he is wrong it our duty as journalists to expose him and deeds.”
“Oh come on, shun that idealism of yours”
“This idealism pushes me on, Sir!”
“Look here. This is for your good health. This man you have written against is quite dangerous. He may put an end to you life!!”
“I don’t care.”
“He may attack your family.”
“Sir! Is this you speaking or him?”
“Shut up!! I am telling you this because I am concerned about you.”
“I think you are more worried about the patronage from this man.”
“I have to survive. I have a family to feed. Not everyone is as foolhardy as you!”
“Then I think I do not fit in your scheme of things.”
“___“
“Okay Sir, I quit. I can’t continue here any longer. I wish good luck to you and your paper.”
“___“
He looked at the pen now and wondered what could be done with his favourite possession? As he looked at it he felt the pen telling him the old adage “pen is mightier than the sword.” “Well it is, isn’t it?” he said to himself and decided not to give up. He would still expose the man. His mind was made up; he embarked on a mission to set things right. He started writing independently, and tried his best to get his story published. But it was not easy, and the journalist felt defeated at the hands of this corrupt society.
One fine day he set out on his quest, with renewed energy. As he was running across a busy road to beat the speeding, roaring vehicles, his favourite pen popped out of his pocket and fell on the road. He bent down to quickly retrieve it…Had it not been his passion for his pen he would have been living today.