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	<title>geetanjali &#187; pen</title>
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		<title>The ink</title>
		<link>http://geetanjali.hostr.chitnis.com/2008/11/02/the-ink/</link>
		<comments>http://geetanjali.hostr.chitnis.com/2008/11/02/the-ink/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Nov 2008 16:43:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Geetanjali</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blue]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[brill]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ink]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pen]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[write]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I found an inkpen, so I went out and bought  bottle of ink for twelve rupees. I came home and spent an hour trying to fill the thing, as it&#8217;s &#8220;suction mechanism&#8221; refused to function. Finally, I succeeded. The floor &#8230; <a href="http://geetanjali.hostr.chitnis.com/2008/11/02/the-ink/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I found an inkpen, so I went out and bought  bottle of ink for twelve rupees. I came home and spent an hour trying to fill the thing, as it&#8217;s &#8220;suction mechanism&#8221; refused to function. Finally, I succeeded. The floor has battle scars, though. And so did my hands.</p>
<p>And so I write, with my ink pen. It&#8217;s not pretty, but still oddly satisfying. I write in a pretty blue book I bought, about nothing and everything. I scribble and doodle and shudder to read what I have written, but still I write.</p>
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