The Blue Bottle: End of an Epoch

“Blue the ocean, blue the sky 

Blue the tears, that I cry

Blue the violet, that smells so sweet

The blues will haunt me, till next we meet.”

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“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of  hope, it was the winter of despair’’…now followed by summertime sadness. “Why?’’, you ask.


Because the driving force of The Blue Pencil is leaving. The people who gave us and the blog direction are sailing away to follow their dreams, their personal quests, cresting high on the tide of fortune,leaving in their wake, befuddled flotsam. They may appear to be afloat on seemingly calm waters, but they’re desperately trying to keep their heads above the water, feet ,paddling furiously to keep afloat, like frantic ducks with compasses gone haywire. The needle doesn’t point true north anymore. It swings wildly, trying to find some semblance of direction. Something, anything, that will tide them over till they get their bearings right.

The huge responsibility on their shoulders scares them and threatens to overwhelm them, when they suddenly remember the precious cargo they’ve been entrusted with. To many people reading this, it might seem like a tempest in a teapot but few know of the storms they’ve weathered, the castaways they have rescued and the jetsam they have had to throw overboard when their ship was in danger of sinking.

As the beloved Core prepares set sail to find whatever new adventures await them, the Crew dabs at their eyes with their already soaked handkerchiefs amidst cheery shouts of “Au revouir”  and “Bon voyage” ,  and in their hearts, make a solemn vow to keep The Blue Pencil’s flag forever flying high. Together, they raise their voices in a chorus, with their hands fisted tightly over their hearts, and chant ,

“O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won”

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P.S. – Shout out to Charles Dickens (“It was the best of times…winter of despair”) and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ( “O Captain!…is won”) for being the inspiration that they are.

The post was written by Samyukta Menon, II year.



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