Autobiography of a pen

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An Autobiography of a Pen

             Myself a pen. My name is Parker. I was born in a factory. When I was in shop named Stencils, a boy came and bought me at Rs 175.  His name was Herbert .He always cared me a lot. He used me and refilled me every month. I was happy that I got such a good owner. He was not allowing any one to touch me .He always kept me with him , never left me alone.He used to introduce me to others as his Luckiest pen . I was proud of my master. His tiny age was very innocent . I used to like his sweet and mild touch . Once there was a handwriting competition . Herbert and both were very curious to know the results .After one week of the competition , result of handwriting competition was declared . Herbert got first prize. Our joys had no bound ! Even today also , when I remember that day , it give me a great delight .I remember how he was giving credit of his win to me. It was his last paper , he wrote his paper very nicely . Suddenly  , I experienced myself on the ground .Once a boy in his school  had stolen me, and while playing he lost me on the ground. A farmer saw me and picked me. One man from  city saw me and told  the farmer that he would give him  Rs. 20, and he took me away to a shop and sold me at 160 Rs and he made a profit of 140 Rs. I felt very bad for myself. Then I was again to a shop. And waiting for a good owner. After a long wait of 7 hours , a boy came and purchased me. This new owner was no one but Herbert , my old owner .After seeing me his eyes flooded with tears , he kissed me many times . I thanked to God . Our happy life started once again .   

This article is written by a student Aman Jha )