An ink-pen vision, transports me back to the messy years spent with ink stained hands (scrubbing them at the day’s end), spotted bags, spoiled notebooks, a non-waterproof mode of writing and basically no other choice it being a mandatory medium, and so writing and waiting for the page to dry before turning overleaf, and the constant fear of the monsoons seeping its way into school bags and washing/smudging away reams of important paperwork!
Running out of ink was the worst scenario as one never carried ink bottles for refills (a very risky practice). Ball points as an alternative (and what an attractive one) were a strict no-no and how we itched to graduate to use the hassle free ball point pen!
That was then, a long time back…That is how I felt in school.
And now I wonder how could I have ever thought like that! Ever!
In a world and time where I don’t unconsciously reach out for a pen (to talk about a fountain pen is a remote thing) each time I want to write something, rather compulsively depending on the word document/notepad instead, to get me by, I feel dependent and unnatural, even though that’s what I do each time…to reach out for the keyboard.
During these times, I get transported back to the period when I used a fountain pen to write, and then memories come rushing back. This time, flooded with positive ones, the fact that my handwriting had been at its best then which naturally proves as an instant confidence booster. Indeed if you letter things beautifully, you just come up with beautiful words to match it!
And that is when my hands ache to grip a fountain pen once again.
Now, at this very moment I am ready to forget all that a regular usage of a fountain pen entails.....ever entailed. What remains is the beauty and joy of holding one and putting it to use. An ink-pen bearing person today, is a very rare sight. But I admire the odd person who still carries it. Unfortunately I don’t possess one. One day, however I would indulge in a real expensive beauty, flaunt it and embellish my lettering with it.
Running out of ink was the worst scenario as one never carried ink bottles for refills (a very risky practice). Ball points as an alternative (and what an attractive one) were a strict no-no and how we itched to graduate to use the hassle free ball point pen!
That was then, a long time back…That is how I felt in school.
And now I wonder how could I have ever thought like that! Ever!
In a world and time where I don’t unconsciously reach out for a pen (to talk about a fountain pen is a remote thing) each time I want to write something, rather compulsively depending on the word document/notepad instead, to get me by, I feel dependent and unnatural, even though that’s what I do each time…to reach out for the keyboard.
During these times, I get transported back to the period when I used a fountain pen to write, and then memories come rushing back. This time, flooded with positive ones, the fact that my handwriting had been at its best then which naturally proves as an instant confidence booster. Indeed if you letter things beautifully, you just come up with beautiful words to match it!
And that is when my hands ache to grip a fountain pen once again.
Now, at this very moment I am ready to forget all that a regular usage of a fountain pen entails.....ever entailed. What remains is the beauty and joy of holding one and putting it to use. An ink-pen bearing person today, is a very rare sight. But I admire the odd person who still carries it. Unfortunately I don’t possess one. One day, however I would indulge in a real expensive beauty, flaunt it and embellish my lettering with it.
