My Pocket Diary

Dear diary,

I can sense your astonishment. I must be a stranger to you but I urge you to accept me as a guest which has come to your refuge for almost two days. I am also feeling some kind of peculiar feeling that I am here before you sitting, giving my time. But I am here because of my very old friend who is studying with me almost when I had started going to school. I am thankful to him as he has given his best to encourage me and sometimes also teaching me various things in the field of literature to which we are both attracted. Not only us, but I must that the world is again taking refuge in this field leaving even the most highly prioritized position. 

Whatever, I am here to convey my most prominent, remarkable, and unforgettable mistake which is committed to whom myself is committed—writing. For three days, there is a lockdown of twenty one days in the whole country. In the midst of this and from three days, I have lost my spirit of a writer. This happened due to many distractive things and the reason is that I had lost my pocket diary in which I write all my thoughts and my first rough draft of a poem and even other things which I am obliged to remember. I had lost it and was distracted by playing indoor games with my friends and the fascinating shows of television. Not only I had lost my diary but I have lost my three whole days and had spent them like the people who don’t have any goal and any desire in life. I must say I had become inalienable towards my goal. 

But I regained my consciousness when I had found my pocket diary and I have also found my previous path on which I was traveling. I will strictly manage not to distract from this path which is for me sacred. 

I am thankful to you for conveying this making me lightweight from my mistake. Tomorrow I will tell you the answer to ‘why’— why I am not writing my regular diary.