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Hello, my name is Wood Paper. My family trees are throughout the world although, I belong to the area of Western Ghats along the Latitude: 13.217156 and Longitude: 75.000833. My ancestors were rooted to this place and it’s from here my journey started. I was handpicked as the luckiest one when I matured and was processed with water forming a mat like structure. After penance of few days and standing with my fellow fibres in the harsh stream of water, I interwove myself and came out as the thin sheet, which is ready to use.

I also have my cousin’s called Rag paper and Grass paper. Their origins are from different part of the world (nothing interesting for you) and I really adore them. My existence brought a great revolution to the world. I, along with my brother and sisters from all over the world, were used everywhere as time passed. I became the heartbeat, the mode by which human race learnt to develop and grow. 

Sometimes I feel proud of the fact that human intelligence could grow because they used me as a learning medium. I can be used to write every single thought and idea that comes to anyone’s mind. This idea at first is like a raw seed which is then sown and spread on my little inter-tangled fibered sheet and later takes a shape of technology and invention.

I am worshipped in some parts of the world like in the region, where I belong to, the land called India. It’s a very vast land with vast population of my lush green forests and even more vast number of human races. There is a notion of sacredness related to me because I am the one who provides them with what they call ‘skiksha’.  I am the son of goddess saraswati and i am bestowed with her immense blessings, to educate every single human on earth. And I thoroughly enjoy this role of mine to be honest.

I am also the best friend of all the lovers in the animal world. I have successfully followed my duty in transporting messages written on me so that two hearts can meet. I love it when the divine nib of the pen meets my skin and leaves the mark, which can be read by animal later on. The softness of a pen when rolled over my body and is filled with emotions makes me cheerful and content. Different ink colours on my white skin make humans happy.

I am usually white in colour but there is also a possibility that I can be transformed into many other different colours by adding some chemicals and dyes. They make me look attractive and I am able to flaunt my new colour clothes on the ramp. But sometimes too many of hazardous chemical dyes used tend to harm my soft fibres and effects are seen in my afterlife, this makes me week and sad.

With the new technologies and after the decades of research by the man, the new hi-tech machines were invented, which I could never understand. Printing on me is fast and so many things are possible within few seconds. But I do not anymore feel connected to the real emotions and it is becoming hard for me to understand them. Everything around me in the new century is so mechanical- the hard pointer, the sound of machine and the cartilage ink. This makes me feel not wanted anymore and moreover mostly not cared anymore.

I loathe the change in the attitude of everyone and wish to bring the same old feeling back. I can feel the real end in front of me. I am scared that soon I will be dead and no one will remember how useful I was for every small action such as making toys, packaging material, books, wrapping secrets within me etc. As the electronic world is growing I am forgotten.