THE CONFESSION OF A FOUNTAIN-PEN

Outline: Introduction – where I was made – a beautiful lady bought me – her description and how she treated me – a lady – bag – snatcher robbed me and sold me – my new mistress – how I was lost once more – my present condition.

I am an old parker fountain pen. My life story is such a sad one, that it always brings tears to the eyes of those whom I relate it. Though I was a stream-lined fountain-pen one day, now I am a broken little filthy thing lying in a gutter.

  I was made in an air-conditioned factory way back in 1998. Soon after this, I was packed off to a big shop in Ahmedabad. There I was placed in a show-case by a nice looking young man. One fine day a pretty  lady, who looked like Madhuri Dixit, accidentally saw me. She took a fancy to me as I was brand new and shining. She bought me even though I was a pretty expensive fountain-pen.

The young lady was a college student. She took me to her college the next day. Right from that happy day, she always made use of me till the time she took her M.A. examination. She introduced me to her friends, and one day I was introduced to her boyfriend (who, by the way, became her husband later on). All throughout this period, she treated me with tender care. I fell in love with her.

Many a time my beloved owner’s friend borrowed me. She was such a kind lady that she never refused to lend me to others. However, I used to act extremely stubborn with them. Naturally, because I loved my dear mistress far, far more than her friends and also because some of them actually maltreated me.

Thus many years rolled away. And one fateful day a lady bag-snatcher robbed my mistress’ handbag. I was in it and so I had to part company with my darling owner. I wept and wept. The ugly fellow, a goonda who had no use of me, sold me in Mumbai’s Chor Bazaar. I always wept bitterly on the loss of my kind and loving and beautiful mistress.

Luckily, one pretty school-girl bought me and began to use me. But one day I do not know how I fell off from her school bag. An oncoming double-decker bus ran over me and I was broken into pieces. Somebody picked me up and threw me into a gutter. Now I am lying in that filthy place anxiously waiting for my last breath.