#AFountainPenAndALoveStory It was my birthday. I gave much of the special chocolates to her. She was so pleased and told me, “You can ask any of my things, I will give it to you surely.” Without any hesitation, I asked, “Give me your fountain pen then,” Her face dulled, “Ask me anything other than it, you know I can’t give that to you and moreover my friends used to say when we give fountain pen to our friends, the friendship bond would be broken and they would separate.” She as usual started saying stories about it, and then she gave me her pencil box instead of her wooden fountain pen. I didn’t force her to give her pen because I too was a little afraid of the story that friendship may eventually break when one gifts a pen to his/her friend. It was the last day of our Ninth standard. After we finished our examination, I met her in the canteen. I spat ink her on her dress and she tried the same but could not find a spot as it was already brimmed with ink stains. For some minutes, we talked about our upcoming Tenth standard. She explained about the efforts needed from our side and how much our lives were going to be changed based on tenth standard marks. Later, she asked me whether I would be studying in the same school. I told her yes. I asked her the same question. She replied, “I won’t miss you. I wont go anywhere. I will study in this same school up to my twelfth standard provided the teachers here don’t flunk me very often.” I laughed and felt so relieved, then we both were about to depart. Suddenly she called my name and gave me her wooden fountain pen and asked me to keep it safely. I hugged her immediately and told how much happy I was. I felt a strange feeling that time; I felt to talk with her more. I wished to spend more time with her as if then after I wouldn’t get a chance. It’s going to be another two months I told myself. Then her father’s car arrived and she went. After that we, boys, kept a cycle race in between us in the school road. We rushed our cycles as fast as we could. I came third in the race. Then we all went to our home chirpily. In home, I excitedly looked on my pocket for her wooden fountain pen. I didn’t find it there. I searched in my bag. I last remembered of keeping her pen safely in my bag but I didnt find it there. I went in the same road in my cycle and searched for the pen, I didn’t find it anywhere. It made me to cry. Earlier I had lost many of the costliest pens and many other costliest things but I have never cried. But losing this pen caused me a great sadness and regret that I couldn’t console. I felt sad day after days. I felt missing it. It wasn’t merely her gift. It was her legacy and my promise too - a legacy she gave to me to keep safe and my promise that I would keep it safe - but now my promise was broken and her legacy was lost. I wanted to say to her that I had lost her dad’s first bought pen, and get apologised from her. I couldn’t forgive myself for my carelessness when I felt how much that pen meant to her and how much she was attached to it. I believed I would forgive myself only if I was forgiven by her. All of a sudden I wanted to meet her and tell how much hurt I was by losing her fountain pen. I felt missing her so much for I knew if she were my near she would have consoled me. I begged to God to end my vacations soon. Luckily the two months’ vacation passed soon. I hoped to bring that non-stop talking sunshine back into my miserable rooms of heart. I went to my school in the earliest and eagerly waited for her arrival. She didn’t come for a long time. I waited and panicked. She didn’t come for the whole day. I was much worried, thinking what was wrong with her. I asked many of my friends none knew about it. She didn’t come for the whole week. I asked about her to everyone who was acquainted to her. None knew where she was and what happened to her. This made me to feel weak about myself and I ended up in the principal room to inquire the details about her. They didnt have any idea of her. I went in her school bus and asked a girl from our school, who was near her home. She told me that her father’s finance company was attacked by people and the whole family fled to an unknown place. That’s the end of the fountain pen and the love story. I studied in the same school up to my twelfth standard, she didn’t come thereafter. I used go to the places where we used to share our stories and thought about her, sometimes feeling sad and sometimes smiling. I missed her so much. I couldn’t believe that she had gone and I couldn’t hope that I would meet her again. Many a times, I used to wonder whether she too missed me like I did. Many a times I would be confused asking myself, “Is this feeling love?” I never got an answer and I knew I would never get one. Years passed. Presently I am in a book store to buy the first fountain pen for my daughter, Tamil Arasi. I know how much it means to a girl, especially to a daddy’s girl. My daughter pointed a costliest Parker pen and asked me to buy it for her. Suddenly my eyes caught a wooden pen that is similar to the fountain pen, the girl on my school days gave me. I brought it for me and brought the costliest Parker for Tamil Arasi. The shop keeper filled ink in both the pens and gave me to check them. I took the wooden pen and wrote the name, “Tamil Arasi”. The first name I write whenever I buy a pen, the name of the girl - who stayed in my life for a short time during my school days but took a permanent place in my heart. Her beautiful name it is... By ©#NostalgicPen
Posted on: Thu, 14 Aug 2014 10:23:21 +0000
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