This is a blank piece of paper.
Well, it used to be.
Now that I’m writing on it, it isn’t blank anymore.
But wait a moment, and imagine
Is it just a blank page?
Or is it so much more than what we think it is?
A blank page is an ocean of possibilities.
It could be a page where a toddler squiggles his first lines ever with a tiny red pencil.
It could be a crumpled ball that the toddler’s kitten plays with for hours at end.
It could be the first paper plane the little boy makes.
It could be a frog he learns to make in origami class.
It could be a hand-fan he waves to soothe his kitten on a hot summer day.
It could be a cone that contains freshly roasted groundnuts, worth all the riches in the whole wide world.
It could be the first love letter he ever writes, brim with an innocent passion.
Or a mournful poem he pens when he falls in unrequited love.
It could contain a doodle that he sketches, one that has the ideal mix of amusement and hope.
Or it could have wayward scribbles all over, intelligible only to him who’s certain of his confusion.
It could be a painting his old grandmother paints, an artist who finally summons the courage to play with colours again.
It could contain notes of a beautiful symphony his sister composes, one that’s yet to be ever played.
It could contain an elegant equation, that explains deep mysteries of the universe with simple, irrefutable logic.
It could contain a sketch of a prototype he imagines as a young inventor,
An invention that changes the face of mankind.
It could be the declaration of independence, a freedom his nation fought for years to earn.
It could contain his will that he writes realising that the end is near.
Or maybe it can just be a blank piece of paper that ages gracefully.
If a blank sheet of paper could be so much more,
How about the miracle of existence that’s alive in the little boy?
Could we be so much more? Just like the blank sheet of paper?
We are not merely a blank page,
We are also the embodiment of energy that can transform it into something beautiful.
We are a billion beautiful possibilities.
Listen to the blank page singing softly,
as me ,
Just as us all,
Are art in the making.
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