Read When Free Short Story It was my English exam. The question paper was as usual too easy. After I have finished reading the whole question paper once, I decided to start writing. I opened my costliest parker pen and started writing. Oh! My God I forgot to fill ink in my pen. What I was going to do? I was shocked, terrified, perplexed and at last relaxed. For a few minutes, I scolded my mom and dad for not checking all these then I thought to get a pen from my nearby friends. With an idea of getting a pen without the knowledge of the invigilator, I looked on to the easiest possible way. In the corner of my bench, the newly joined girl was sitting and had almost finished a page of the main sheet. I saw her. She also saw me that I was seeing her. The way I looked at her would have surely made her fathom that I was in need of something desperately. My heart craved to ask a pen from her perhaps, my male ego didn’t permit me to do that. Meanwhile, she put her head down and started writing as it was English exam so the time duration would not be sufficient, especially to write our own stories and become an author in a single exam. One has to manage time properly in order to finish writing all answers. I dumped my first choice, as it seemed to be risky and so I looked on for other possible ways. The invigilator of my hall was our Physics sir. I had been the topper in Physics most of the times. He had a good reputation on me. I thought again and again whether I could use the reputation to my advantage or my action would spoil my reputation. We realise how worse we were only during the times of desperate needs. I shut my male ego inside a tight sack and gestured my hands towards the newly joined girl sitting in the corner of my bench. I showed my pen and gestured her to give her extra pen to me. “This is the pen I write for a long time, if I give it to you my hand-writing will change,” she whispered it to me. I keenly saw in her pencil box, she had another fountain pen made of wood. I pointed my fore-finger towards it and asked, “What about that pen?” “It is my favourite pen. This is the first pen my daddy brought for me. I am having it for eight years and I don’t give this to anyone. I am sorry,” she told me and gave me a helpless look. “It’s fine. I will manage,” I told her, smiled and asked her to continue her writing. Some of my friends had told me that she was arrogant, they were right I thought so cursing her in my mind, “Hell with your foolish sentiments and stupid superstitions.” Meanwhile, my invigilator saw everything happened and he gave me his pen saying, “I have watched you many times. Either you don’t bring a pen or don’t have ink in that pen. This is the last warning for you. If I see you without a pen once again then I would immediately chuck you out of the examination hall.” I gave him a so-happy-smile and started writing. The evening I went home and shouted at my mother for being irresponsible. “You forgot to fill ink in my pen. Today it was a great embarrassment to me. Don’t forget to fill ink in my pen tomorrow,” I told and immediately changed my dress and went to play. Too tired after playing I slept earlier as soon as I ate and I woke up lately at 8’o clock in the next morning. I rushed to the school and reached the gate exactly at 8.30, the exact time the school gate would be closed. Outside the exam hall it seemed some of the questions had been leaked so my friends were on a hurry and tension to mug-up those answers. I gave a short perusal and entered the examination hall. After sitting in my spot, I realised that I forgot so many things. I forgot to fill ink in my pen. I forgot that it was only the previous day I got scolding and was given a last warning to bring a proper pen to the examination hall. I forgot that neither distant friends nor the nearby foes would be able to give me a pen and save me. My mind all of sudden went as blank as an exam paper. The question paper was a difficult one and I comprehended that many of my classmates were going to be flunked. So I closed my pen and started looking at the people and every other small and big things of the hall curiously. Fifteen minutes passed by, I was certainly cool. A minute later the newly joined girl dragged her wooden fountain pen towards me and signalled me to start writing. I expressed my gratitude of choking happiness with my smile and I begun writing. The pen was smooth to write. After I finished a page, I couldn’t believe, was my handwriting so elegant! I started loving that pen and wished to own it. In the afternoon, after the lunch break, I was sitting along with a group of my friends, she came near me, I was astonished. She asked me to give her pen back. Then I looked on to my pocket, it was there luckily. “I am sorry. I forgot to give,” I said this, smiled and gave the pen to her. She went without saying anything. After she went my friends mocked me, “Arey! What’s happening here? What is going on with you” one of my friend asked. “A fountain pen and a love story,” other replied. Many of my friends had told me earlier that she was much beautiful, I felt they were right. After a month, our exam papers were corrected and given. In Physics, most got flunked, I passed with border marks. Newly joined girl failed in the borders so she asked my papers. I gave it to her and told her thanks because had she not given her pen then the scenario might be different. She smiled and said, “No sorry and no thanks and no mentioning in between friends.” I smiled parting my lips wide open like a cartoonish figure. As days went, we started talking to each other more often, more frequent and more than necessary. We became thickest friends. She told me about many things, many stories behind everything. She had innumerable stories behind her wooden fountain pen. I fell in love with the pen while I heard partial of the stories about it. On that day during the recess, I was walking near the cycle-stand. I saw a wooden pen in the ground. I took it. It was her pen. Cunningly, I decided to keep it by myself. I went to the class. She appeared so dull and her eyes too seemed to be watered by tears just some minutes before and I knew the reason. I went near her and told, “I have a gift for you,” and showed her fountain pen towards her. Immediately she grabbed it away from my hands and told thanks again and again. I wondered was she the same girl who told me that there should be no thanks and sorry in between the friends. This incident increased the strength of our bond. I spoke with her, sat near her, played with her whenever I got a chance. Like this our school days went on. It was my birthday. I gave much of the special chocolates to her. She was so pleased and she 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 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 my 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. 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 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 felt so much happy. I hugged her and told how much happy I was. Then we both said good-bye with a hope to meet each other after the two months of summer holidays. 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 fourth in the race. Then we all went to our home chirpily. I excitedly looked on my pocket for the wooden ink pen. I didn’t find it there. I searched in my bag. It wasn’t there too. 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 or even cared for it. But losing this pen caused me a great sadness and regret within me that I couldn’t console. I cried day after days. I felt missing it. It wasn’t merely a promise it was her gift. I wanted to say to her that I missed her dad’s first bought pen, and get apologised from her. I couldn’t forgive myself for my carelessness. 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 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 went to my school 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. A girl told me that her father’s finance company were attacked by people and the whole family fled to an unknown place. That’s the end of the fountain pen and 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. I missed her so much. I couldn’t believe that she was gone and I couldn’t hope that I would meet her. Many a times, I used to wonder whether she too missed me like I did. Many a times I would be confused asking myself, “Was 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, Roja. I know how much it means to a girl, especially a father’s girl. My daughter pointed out to a costliest parker pen and asked to buy it for her. Suddenly my eyes captured a wooden pen that is similar to the fountain pen she gave me. I brought it for me and brought the costliest parker for Roja. The shop keeper filled ink in both the pens and gave me to check them. I took the wooden pen and wrote the name, “Roja.” The first name I write whenever I buy a pen. Her name it was.
Posted on: Fri, 20 Sep 2013 19:48:26 +0000
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