I fill my pen with ink and sit in my desk to think. A myriad of thoughts and ideas congregate, each as better than the other they masquerade. Then the thoughts flow on paper, the foggy ones I try to taper; sometimes I lose a good one in a blink as I pen down another in a brink. I try to keep my writing short, tying few sentences into a knot. There are times when I tend to fail, as I watch the nib incessantly sail. When I'm done, I read it out in my head and not out loud. And I realise each paragraph is a thought kernal, together they knit up my thought journal.
© Barnadhya Rwitam