My father and the
Fountain Pen!
I was studying as a
border, in a small upcoming school a few miles from house, in those
days. I was around ten and almost looked eight. All undernourished
children of that time in Kerala, coupled with various childhood
diseases looked younger than their age. But we were fed well in
School and I was picking up.
I had my belonging
of a small box containing a pair of dresses and a little soap and a
Kerala cotton towel. A sleeping grass mat, a cotton blanket and a
pillow completed the belongings. My father had told he would come
of and on to visit me and then I can have any money if I needed. I
never needed any money as such.
The Principal cum
Manager of the School a very kind and generous man, had, on my our
admittance given us, a small diary to write our accounts even though
we did not have any money. As I was in Class V we had started writing
with ink pens. At least, we were allowed to. I had a few ink pens
with their blocks and nibs which were discarded by my elder sisters
who were in higher classes. These old pens looked good but there was
the little problem of leaks from their neck parts. I thought that I
can fix them with the washing soap and kept applying them with the
same. It worked to some extent. But after a time when the flow
improved with continuous writing the ink slowly came to my three
fingers which gripped the pen. The fingers turned blue with inki
which I used to wash off with the washing soap called 'Sunlight' (Or
was it called 'Sun Lite' ?). As I was a bit lazy in washing clothes
and all my soap didn't have much other use.
A few months passed
and in between my father arrived one day enquiring after me. After
his talk with the Principal, he came to me and spoke for a while about
everybody else in the family (We had a large family with a number of
brothers and sisters, which is huge in any respect as per the present
day considerations), all of whom had enquired of me and had sent
their Good Wishes. Then he told me that he has brought a present for
me. He checked his large shirt picket and brought out a beautiful
brown fountain pen -brand new at that-Imagine my surprise! It had a
nice brown cap and a glittering yellow brass clip topped by a black
plastic clip holder! I hit the ceiling with surprise.! At our
financial condition any kind of equipment was considered a secondary
need as he had to meet both ends for the family with his small
incomes. I feebly mumbled to father if he really did have to spend
on the pen or me as I have two - three old pens to which he stroked
my hair longly and said “ I had noticed your pens earlier. They
are all leaking. It will be good for you to write with a good pen.
Even if we are poor in other things, we should not be poor in studies.
It is my duty to get you a good pen if not many other things”.
That completed the conversation. And he slowly wished me 'Tata' and
walked off.
I was speechless and
very much touched by his insight and kindness. All through my
studies I wrote with that pen until my Under Graduate days. The
present day ball point pens were not prevalent then!
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