Autobiography of pencil box with one thousand words
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Autobiography of a pencil box
Today is my tenth birthday. A small party has been held in my honour by all the instruments, books and exercise copies that share my room. I am an old worn out pencil box. I was given birth in the reputed Camlins Company, Hyderabad. I was bright orange in colour with patches of yellow and pictures of pencils on me. I was shipped to Delhi and purchased by my master’s father for his eleventh birthday. From then on my master’s birthday has been regarded as my birthday.
My master was very fond of me. He took me to school every day and used all the instruments like pens, pencils, erasers, geometrical instruments that I stored for him. He took good care of me and kept me in a special pouch. As time went by my colour began to fade but still my master took me to school. He considered me to be very lucky because writing with the pen that I carried for him, he always stood first in class. His friends made fun of me. They flaunted bright new pencil boxes and urged my master to throw me out but my master could never bear the idea of parting with me. In fact he had even scratched his name on my side. It had really hurt me then but I was very proud of it. My master’s books and other study materials all respected me and honoured me for my dedication towards my master.
Soon the days slipped by and I am now a decade old. My master now reads in a university. He no longer needs me but he has given me a very honourable retirement. I am neatly kept at the foot of the idol of Goddess Saraswati. I am now reflecting on my beautiful life that I have had in these ten years and am awaiting a peaceful end.
Answer:
I was born in the big factory of the city. My name is Atlas. I’m smart and thin. I am basically made up of wood. Then they packed me to different colour papers. After my packing was done I was transferred to a lorry and the driver took me to the stationary shop. In that shop I met so many friends like pen, rubber and eraser. The shop was very beautiful and was always crowded.
Ravi my owner bought me finally one day. I must have done any sin in my life which is the reason I got Ravias my master. He was arrogant and harsh. He throws me at walls. Ravi used to make me scream and listen to me crying. I’m always scared of sharpener but that child shop me like 1000 times in a day. But hey this is not the end of the life. People sharp me to make me look sharp so I can write clear.
One day was lucky for me as Ravi placed me somewhere. Then he forgets about me. Next day Ravi’s friend placed me to the desk of the teacher. Now I’m happy and glad. The teacher took me and used me very carefully and decently. Finally I was in good hands. I got rid of Ravi who was one of the naughtiest kids I met in my life. The teacher took me home and she has a happy family.
Every morning she used me with a cup of tea and checked his English papers. She only sharped me when it was needed and it made me young again. Now I’m in last days of life. One or two trim and I will be dead.
I lived a happy life after I get into a nice teachers life. I fulfilled the sole purpose of my life i.e. writing through my lead to help other people. I was a light and hope of education. Children learnt through media were a medium for their knowledge. It always made me proud that GOD has created me into such a useful thing.
Explanation:
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