I had the crazy habit of smelling fountain ink. Someone was the reason for it. There was a girl who was my senior at school as well as at my church catechism class. Let her name be Diya. We were friends; she was always fond of ink pen and used only them no matter when or where. Whenever I met her, I have noticed her fingers which held several stains of blue ink especially on her right thumb and point finger. Her note books/diaries were so unanimous and neatly written. Somehow I pursued my mother to get me fountain pen and chelpark blue ink. In fact mom had taken me to the small town adjacent to our village for the monthly purchase and asked me to choose from what the shopkeeper had displayed. My first ink pen! I was so happy to get the pen. Its body was white with different colors of heart shapes on it and cost 15 rupees. I happened to save it for many years. With the age I lost it. Even now when I see ink pens, I feel a strange adoration for my mother. Also for letting me take my choice from my childhood.
In my school days I used to observe and copy the handwriting style of my classmates: long, stunted, slanting, running letters etc etc. I attempted to follow Diya’s handwriting too. I succeeded also to some point. I started using ink pen at school for all the classes. But I was sad for an unusual reason. Now the reason seems ridiculous. But for the child in me, it was significant. Even after using ink pen for whole day I never got any ink stains on my fingers like Diya. As days went, I purposefully got stains on the fingers and at the end of the day those stains made me feel happy. There originates my crazy habit of smelling the ink! Even tried writing with feathers of cuckoo, and duck.
I am thankful to Diya for evolving one more quality in me and that’s WRITING! This doesn’t mean that Diya used to write any literature works instead she used to write diary regularly. Since I was already following her footsteps somehow the idea of writing diary switch on, in me. May be at my 7th standard I started writing diary. That was a time when I blindly believed in spirituality. During my recent visits to home, few of the old diaries came up. I didn’t read my scribbling instead I was looking at my handwriting styles. I couldn’t stop laughing at my awkward habit.
With time, I got some what OK type hand writing and continued maintaining a diary till my college days. In schooldays, I attempted stories but wasn’t confident enough. It had the influence of novels which I came across on those days. I felt my writing to be above of my age and hence tore off all. Now I feel I shouldn’t have done that. Another thing which influenced my writing attempts was a Malayalam movie “Aaranyakam”. In the movie the actress is depicted to write diary, roam around the woods. She used to fill her tote bag with any book from her reading list, a water bottle, binocular, diary and fountain pen. I imitated her so many times on my school weekend days :p
I wasn’t interested in poetry and never took serious interest in essays/poems, short stories etc. I always preferred for novels. But with time and opportunity, that attitude changed; a mind ready to perceive in a broader spectrum. Without even reading much poetry, I started writing poetry. Most of them were attempted during post-graduation time due to some or the silly other frustrations. After 5 years, I brought those attempts to light and few good opinions/comments also I received on them. In the meanwhile I slowly found poetry to be readable for me.
I feel it all depends on the mood of a writer. Whether it is in the form of story/ poetry/ essay aim is to convey the theme/message or thought. So according to the writer’s mind set up, he can attempt and has the soul authority to give birth to any of the literature end products. I have attempted poetry 5 years back and now again I am back to essays and short stories. May be this is how it is. But I am always surprised by the home work done by the writers for weaving their historical fictions. That’s just brilliant attempt to live/describe places and eras which they haven’t ever known.
I feel proud to be born on the land of Tagore. Land of literary giants; many known as well as many remain unknown ones who walked into the past. Because of them we have the chance to know the diverse minds/culture etc. of our land. I am not eligible to say much about the glorious literary past which we hold.
No matter I write or not, one thing I am damn sure about and it’s about my affinity for books. I can’t live without them!!!

12 thoughts on “Writing…..”

  1. If you don’t have an fountain pen with ink please go and get one again. Think of that glint of the past which you are missing, at the point if you ever suffer writer’s block, get out the ink pen with it’s beauty, it is guaranteed to get the creative juices flowing. I loved your account of this memory.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank u so much dear. Ur words r inspirational for a beginner blogger like me.
      Yes i did buy few fountain pens over the years. I do use it to revive the writing processes. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. The thing that any person could connect to was the influence of friends and of novels and movies. Anybody who started writing could not deny the fact that he/she did so because of what he read or saw.
    Very nicely written I must say

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Its not easy to express our feelings and its really difficult to make others feel what you felt. You showed us that its not impossible. 🙂

    I felt the smell of ink, that picture of fingers with ink stain while reading.

    Liked by 1 person

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