Fading blots of ink

Dipping the nib fixed at one end of an aluminium or a wooden holder into an inkbottle off and on, to write is long gone. But memories linger. Writing was an ordeal for more reasons than a good vocabulary or lack of it. We had to dip the nib, which dried up every so often, in the ink to continue writing. Nibs, their holders and inkbottles were up for grabs in all stationery shops in the bygone years. Writing meant getting the whole paraphernalia ready and sitting at one place for long hours. As exotic as it sounds, they were not easy to handle, especially for children.

Our pens came with their own set of accessories. Slots and shallow inkwells were provided on every writing desk to keep holders and inkbottles respectively. Then we carried a blotting paper attached to blotting pads. It was the most important accessory, because ink would invariably overflow from the nib, and if we didn’t want a blotch on paper, we had to quickly soak up the ink. If blotting paper wasn’t handy, chalk pieces, used to write on blackboards, were a worthy substitute.

Getting promoted from fifth standard to sixth -- which later came to be called ‘first form’, also meant we had to compulsorily write our half-yearly and annual examinations with ink pens. One drawback of these nibs-on-stick pens was their lamentable lack of portability. And then the probability of the ink blotching our togs, hands and paper.

As we moved to the third form -- equivalent to today’s eighth standard --fountain pens replaced the rustic ink pens, much to our relief. That was the end of the irksome need to carry inkbottles and holders. We could now carry pens in our pockets. After decades, we graduated from fountain pens to ballpoint pens, commonly called ‘ball pens’. Then pens were no more something of a treasure.

Borrowing, and not returning, ball pens has become quite common now. But, as a stickler for etiquette, it infuriates me that borrowers very often lack the courtesy to hand the pen back respectfully, forget about thanking.

I had the bitter experience of a person borrowing my pen politely and then rudely rolling it off the counter towards me after use. I couldn’t do much, other than stare at him, fuming, till he was out of my sight. Lending fountain pens was even more painful as sometimes they came back with the nib cracked wide open, unfit for writing.

Now, it is the time of typing and texting. I am thankful for digitisation as it spares me the pain of broken nibs, ungrateful borrowers and lost pens.