Question

Autobiography of a pen ke bare me lekh nahh h wow bhi 1500 wards me .

Answer 1

I am a Fountain Pen and today I am writing my Autobiography.I was born at a pen factory a few years ago. My outer body is golden in colour . I was displayed at a pen shop; so I could watch all the people passing by. Several people also had a glance to have a look at me.In the meantime, I was purchased by a famous writer from the market and I am still staying with him. I am the favorite pen of the writer.The writer finds pleasure in writing with me. I am also very glad and proud of it. He uses me to write many poems, stories and essays. There are then taken to the press for printing and they are published in the form of a book. The writer gets so much money and fame as I help him to write with. His thoughts and ideas are expressed in words and then recorded through me.  This is how I try to spread human knowledge from one generation to another.Thus, Culture and literature of human civilization are so much dependent on us. We have great power to changer the human mind and heart. It, therefore, very rightly said, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”

Answer 2

I don’t know when I was made, but I do remember being in a box when suddenly the darkness turned to bright light. I looked around and saw others just like me. We were all lying side-by-side and there were yet more underneath us. A hand reached in and took a bunch of us out. We were unceremoniously placed in a jar. I am not sure what I thought about this, but it wasn’t fun. The glass jar with us all in was placed on a shelf and a label was stuck on the jar. What it said I could not see. There was a tinkling bell as a door opened. A hand, not the same one as before, started poking about the other jars that were also on the shelf. Eventually a finger rummaged around in our jar. Two more fingers joined the first. I was plucked out from the bosom of my ‘friends’ and tossed on the counter, rather roughly, with some coins. The first hand picked me up and put me in a paper bag. The second hand, I assume, stuffed me in his pocket with no care for my comfort at all. Oh the indignity! It was sometime later, after a lot of jostling, that I saw the light of day again. The top of the bag was opened and I saw the peering face of the man who, I assumed, bought me. Once more three fingers reached in and got me. I was placed on a desk beside a writing pad. There I lay resplendent with my silver button cap gleaming in the sunlight.

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