October 20th 2009, was celebrated as the first National Day on writing. It was celebrated to recognize how important writing is to their lives; it tried to draw attention to the remarkable variety of writing that we writers are engaged in. According to the reports The National Day on writing celebrated the foundational place of writing in US, it pointed out the importance of writing instruction and practice at every grade level. It recognized the scope of and range of writing done by the American people and others and honored the use of full range of media composing. The idea behind the celebration of National Day on writing was basically to encourage writers and to give them a ray of hope that they were loosing, to bring them under one roof so that they can share their experience and learn from each other. The celebration done was different in every organization and it helped the writers to improve their writing skills. It also created a common forum for discussion on various topics; it helped out those who are looking forward to take their career as a writer. Many events were organized on the National Day of writing which involved huge number of students and with their participation the students discovered new skills of writing. It is commonly said that a “Pen is mightier that Sword” and what a pen can do a sword may never be able to do. A writer is more dangerous than a soldier, a soldier might kill you but a writer kills your thoughts, dreams, aspiration and fill in them with his. National Day celebration kept emphasis on this and said that since the pen is used to express ideas it creates more influence on the life of the people and thus writing should be respected and honored.
Ira comes for tea and slowly reveals a life shaped by emotional surveillance. Loved, watched, and quietly evaluated by her parents, she lives under constant explanation. Through food and confession, she names the exhaustion of being known too well and finds nourishment not just in eating, but in finally being heard. Ira arrived five minutes early and apologized for it. The way people do when they are used to taking responsibility for time itself. She said it lightly, as if time itself had offended her. She wore a white A-line shirtdress, clean and careful, the kind that looks chosen for comfort but ends up signaling restraint. When she sat down, she folded herself into the chair unconsciously. One leg rested on the floor, the other tucked underneath her, knees visible. It was not a pose meant to be seen. It slipped out before her body remembered how to protect itself. I noticed the brief softness of it, the quiet vulnerability, before she settled and forgot. I was still pouring t...
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