ROMANCE OF THE FOUNTAIN PEN

Today, as i was cleaning up the clutter left behind by a month of holidays, I came across a fountain pen.Do you remember those pens lining our geometry boxes? It was as if a window opened and I could feel myself reliving those moments again.
In those days when we reached the middle school, a fountain pen with a Chelpark ink bottle was part of the rite of passage. Every child was entrusted with a pen belonging to their father or grandfather and it was a ceremonious  call to arms , if you will, to the serious vocation of being an adult.

I still remember the thrill of holding my first ever black and silver pen. It felt so smooth and weighty. Yes, surprisingly, that's what I remember it feeling. Weighty as if it wasn't just a pen but a tool to forge my destiny. I was given careful instructions on how to fill the pen with that rich almost velvety coloured ink, how to keep the bottle of ink tightly screwed. Many were the dire stories told about the accidents which could happen. A soft rag was also part of the paraphernalia of the pen. There used to be a suction dropper to fill the belly of the pen or if you were adventurous enough, you could eyeball and fill the pen directly. An exercise in hand eye coordination if ever there was one.It made you feel like Arjuna who succeeds in piercing the eye of the fish ,if you managed to fill the pen without spilling even a drop.

If you thought that the pen was just a tool to write; well, you thought wrong. It wasn't just a pen to function as a writing tool but also a fun instrument. In those dark moments of utter boredom, the pen would give you a light of entertainment. Squirt the ink onto the page. Fold the page at the centre. Smear the ink on the page with your fingers. Wait for few seconds and then open. What you see there was open to interpretation and as I think was the precursor to modern art.

There was always a method involved in making the pen write. Sometimes the pen would develop a stubborn attitude and refuse to finish that important letter or question or even a prescription. It was important to understand the mood of the pen and somehow calm the tantrum. Easy said then done. One had to take a step back. Pause. Pick up the pen and gently rub the nib of the pen, almost like stroking a cat. Then very slowly coax the pen to write while mumbling sweet nothings into its ears.
Believe it or not, it always worked.

Sometimes when the mood was just right, the pen would almost dance over the page leaving beautiful velvety , inky , glowing letters on the page. It was as if a dam had broken and words which echoed in your mind connected to the pen. Magic. That's what it was.

If you think about it, a simple fountain pen could teach you appreciation to life itself. Lets recount certain lessons by this beautiful  yet humble instrument to people's creativity.
1. To be prepared
2. Never to loose focus
3. To pause when things go wrong
4. To appreciate the beauty of the written word
5. To think before you act, write because the wrong act/ word would leave a mark on the pristine page.

Unfortunately with the  passage of time and technical advances the romance of the written word has faded. Now the fountain pen resides in the cupboard , waiting for the era to return.