Monday, May 17, 2010

The Fountain Pen and My Thoughts on Cultural Evolution

Fountain pens are fantastic, they’re my favourites. The one I have with me now is very simple, but it writes very smooth, and I have been using this for more than six years now. As it happened, the nib broke and I had to go in search of a new nib for it, suddenly the idea came to my mind that I shall gift a fountain pen to a friend of mine as a B’Day gift. Hence, in no moment I was at this local stationery shop. What I had to encounter in that shop was a revelation.

The shopkeeper was amused when he had the knowledge that I wanted to buy a fountain pen together with an inkpot. He was further shocked when he learnt that I was buying a pen not only for a gift but I still prefer to write with a fountain pen rather than a ball pen or a roller pen! His expression said it all. Following this, the shopkeeper gave me a lecture on why I should stop using a fountain pen and start using more ‘sophisticated’, ‘user-friendly’ and ‘smoother’ ball pans or the roller pens: “Technology has advanced and we should march ahead with time my friend…”…bla bla bla! I could not help but listen to him with patience. Although I was utterly irritated and was eager to leave the shop as early as possible, I realize, there comes such circumstances in life when you just can’t do what you want to. I felt like arguing and throw a lesson on fountain pens to that shopkeeper, but could not. I was more keen on getting that pen from the shop and just get back to my daily evening routine: cook food, watch tv for sometime and then prepare for a good night’s sleep.

The shopkeeper was, however, able to hold me stay put for half an hour, and at the end of it was able to gather the ‘priceless’ information that I was a student of archaeology and am still very interested in things related to history – ancient in his own language! There comes the greatest declaration from the man: “That’s what I was wondering man! There are only a few people these days who are interested in buying antique stuff.” Now for heaven’s sake, “don’t put the label of antique to the fountain pen my friend. These are still manufactured in large numbers and are marketed throughout the world, and there are people who still buy these pens rather than going for the more popular and use-and-throw stuff!” I wanted to tell him, but I knew that wouldn’t concur to him. Then he gave me a statistical figure of his business in pens over the last two decades, and concluded that I was the only person in the last six months who have actually genuinely showed interest in buying a good fountain pen. That truly, I must admit, explains the shocked expression he had when I first told him that I wanted to buy a fountain pen. In fact, I bought two – one for my friend and another for myself – and returned home.

I remember the Head Master of my primary school who never allowed us to use pens till we were promoted to the higher sections. I got my first pen in the 5th standard; it was a black Hero pen – a small pen. Goss, I still remember how carefully I used to put ink into it. It was a special pen. Father taught me how to properly hold a fountain pen and write along the straight rules. At first I would falter, but then I picked up gradually. Since then I have rarely used a ball pen, but never for writing an exam paper. The fountain pens that I have had bear emotional value; I have truly loved them.

A question has come to my mind ever since I got that statistical explanation from the shopkeeper. Has the time arrived when we can declare the death of the fountain pen? Has it already become an antique piece, as wondered by the shopkeeper? Well, I don’t intend to speak for or against using a fountain pen or a ball pen. To be honest, I don’t have a strong argument for asking everyone to use the fountain pen. I simply do not have a valid argument. But I have a strong belief that writing with a fountain pen is a much delightful experience – in fact the whole process of it; putting ink, writing and looking at the after you have finished writing. But it is only a belief, I can not guarantee that one will have very good handwriting if one writes with a fountain. After all good handwriting is an act of personal/individual brilliance. Although we can ignore the handwriting issue as rather trivial, can we really ignore the emotional and, more importantly, the cultural value that one can attach to a pen – a fountain pen for that matter? The pen has lost its power gradually. First with the coming of the typewriter and the computer, simultaneously with the growing popularity of the ‘use-and-throw’ ball pens, the importance of the pen and the paper has remarkably gone down.

I fear you will call me conservative. I am not. I completely understand that the cultural values, social needs, people’s attitudes, and above all people’s adaptation strategies change. Whatever I have observed above is also nothing but a similar sort of change – a change that is unstoppable, a change that is acceptable. The society is evolving. But should we not have the emotional element also in the new set of cultural values; otherwise what would become of a culture without emotions and ethics?

I also strongly argue that it is not yet the time we give a heritage status to the fountain pen – and the ‘Pen’ that it used to be – for that matter. It’s not dead yet.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Camel

Don’t stop don’t stop my westbound friend
Until you get to that deserted den
Carry on carry on my stranger friend
Until you get to that withdrawn land

Where the oasis turns yellow
And the meandering river
Comes roaring against the ancient rock
That abuts the temple of prehistoric fame

Leave your mark over the thorniest of land
And those irregularities of the ocean of sand
Which have survived
The ravages of an untold saga

Of whispers and murmurs
Of that charlatan charmer
Who walked on the lane of forgotten chants
And goaded winds to the beholden land

He who promised and promised a lot
That the river would flow here
Young and strong
And trees would grow here
Tall and green

Forget those stories of hope and despair
Of endless promises and unfortunate failures
Forget it forget it o ravening wanderer
Forget that you have reasons to mourn
For there will be none that you will be known

Tread the path to that unbeaten land
Gyrate your ways through the searing sand
Until you get to that deserted den
Until you get to that wondrous land
Don’t stop don’t stop my wandering friend