Dear Pen,

Recently, I came across an article in French entitled ‘Le fin du stylo’ (The death of pen). I know it sounds very mean to write to you about your death. But, that article concentrated more on how the art of writing manually is going to be extinct as people are turning more towards technology.

I know it must be difficult to see people pick up their phones, which is usually kept right next to you and see them sending instant messages. It must be frustrating to lie there, at the same place, for days or even months on end, only to be picked up for signing letters or marking some exam papers.

I wonder what you do when you don’t have any work to do. Do you think of those good, old days when people would not let you rest, even for a moment? Do you miss those romantic rendezvous with paper, leading to spilling secrets, conveying people’s emotions, informing them and so much more? It was your epic duo that leads to make some hearts leap with joy or break them, in an instant.

I’m writing this to tell you that I really understand what you are going through, of how it feels to be replaced. But here’s something: even though there are people who are addicted to technology or have switched to it, me being one of them, I am also someone who still uses you and your partner to make my loved ones feel special. It is only with you and paper that I’m able to tell my loved ones that in this tech-savvy world, here is something that will always remind them of me.

You also pave a way between my thoughts and this world. Every single thought that crosses my mind has to be put on paper, only then I feel as though I’ve actually written something.

You both have a special place in my heart for it is with you, I’m able to express myself the best. If not for you, I would have felt that everything that I’ve written lacks an emotional touch.

And about that article, which indicated your death, let’s be clear about something. Your death is not possible as there are people like me who are crazy about writing. If nothing else, I promise that you’ll die only on the day I breathe my last. Till then, you ain’t going anywhere.

Thanks for being there.

An ardent admirer- Meet