An Affair to Ink

It was a love that grew fonder

With every letter written

Simple, yet powerful love

That faded into a weak trail at times

Yet refilled itself and came back

Bold and clear for the world to see

It was an old affair

Old as old can be

Made for one another.

Despite the blots and smudges

That occasionally threatened to wipe the love away

It stood the test of time--

My love affair with the fountain pen.

I’ve always been fascinated by its very nomenclature—‘fountain pen’.

A fountain of what? Ink? Thoughts? Ideas? Dreams?I wonder.

I met my first ink pen long ago in Std. V.

All through my junior school years, I yearned for the day I would get to write with it.

Till then, bright Flora pencils, the bar of erasor and a hungry sharpener were my constant companions. They still are.

But the charm of watching a thirsty cartridge drinking up the ink pot, noisily lapping it up, and then contentedly letting it soak into paper, is a mystery I still savour.

Despite fancy and new inventions of the pen and its related cousins, very little has succeeded in charming me like the fountain pen.

Meeting a fountain pen was like discovering a friend. One that grew fonder with the passage of time.

Stiff and difficult to begin with, our conversations evolved in squeaks and spurts, flowing more easily as the days went by, till it developed into an inseparable bond.

I did chance upon smarter, savvier versions of the roller pen from time to time, but none held my attention the way my old fashioned companion did. There was a hint of sophistication, a distinct flair, a shade of elegance I associated with my fountain pen. The others in the game were mere mortals.

We grew up together. And like all lasting friendships, it’s just got better with time. Bringing out the best in each other. The initial awkwardness has smoothened into a steady stream, reading my thoughts; completing my sentences.. It drips of ideas, values, patterns of my heart and mind. A friend that mirrors the soul of my very existence.

It’s been a wonderful journey—albeit with its share of scratches and falls. Time has robbed it of some of its sheen, but the quality still remains a cut above the others.