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A Day in The Life of a Pencil

Hello, I’m Frank! I’m a pencil and let me take you through a day in my life. Unlike you humans, we don’t have the ability to speak. This might come as a shock to most of you. Life as a pencil can get stressful at times. Most of my folk usually migrate to Saint Pincel Island, an island that can be seen by my people alone. The island is our vacation/escape spot. We do this to escape the wretched hands of brutal children, and adults alike. My community has been abused a lot by people. We’ve been thrown around, broken, eaten, chewed and what not. But I’m a calm pencil, so fortunately, life is good for me.

A typical day usually starts at around mid-day when Sreelaxmi, the girl who adopted me from Gurunath, frantically searches her bag for something to write with during her second lecture. Second, because she missed the first one sleeping in. Most of the time, the pens, my uncle’s community, aren’t present in her bag. This is mainly because the pens think of themselves as superior to humans and therefore have no necessity to help humans with their needs, whatsoever. Another reason is because the pens are party creatures. They party almost every night. So obviously, Sreela (that’s what her mum calls her) grabs the next best thing to take down notes, which is me. She sincerely wields me to take down her notes for half an hour at the maximum. Then she realizes that it’s pointless to take down notes which she is never going to refer to, so she starts doodling. This is why I love to work for her. She is such a fantastic artist. But she hasn’t realized her potential yet. She can do so much more with the right training and guidance.

Anyways, coming back to my life. After her mini doodling sessions in class, she throws me in her bag, which is a mini-garbage bin. I’m in no way exaggerating this statement. In fact, a garbage bin would be an understatement. Her bag literally has zero organization. All the members of the stationary species are just lying around. Right from almost-finished erasers to dead pens (R.I.P). I also see a lot of really old, dying grandparents of my breed. Navigating through this bag is an adventure every day. You can see half eaten chips and biscuit packets lying around, waiting to be thrown away. Don’t be surprised if you see a bug or two every now and then. As I said, it is truly an adventure. But I don’t mind doing this because Sreela is a sweet person. She takes good care of me. She sharpens me regularly, doesn’t bite my eraser off and most importantly, doesn’t abuse me.  So, I finally make my way home, the cute Pink Panther pencil case, which is perpetually left open. Other people who live here are Randy the Rubber Band, Sreela’s savior hair band, Philip the Pen, the party pen, and lastly, Emma the Eraser, the latest member of the case. She’s barely been used. Everyone in Sreela’s case are like a family, although we are not the same breed or make.

So, that brings an end to what a day in my life is like. I hope you all will be more understanding of my species henceforth. I also hope to tell you guys more stories of my life in the future. For now, goodbye!

Signing off,


Tagged in : pencil, sweet, Art, class, doodling,