‘Pen Pal’ was a very interesting concept during my school days as there was no internet, no mobiles etc., at that period of time. I remember the advertisements for making pen friends or pen pals used to get published in different magazines and news papers. Many times I had a desire of writing to somebody especially a girl and make friendship. But my dream never took the shape of reality.
I had published an article few months ago on my webzine Candles Online, ‘Living above negative situations,’ where I had mentioned about my childhood and teenage days. There was a loneliness living inside me during those days. There was a hollow within me. I was deprived of a friendship though I managed all those situations by God’s grace but the deprivation for a friend didn’t go at all. So what I used to do? I used to dream of a friend who should be a girl whose life should be full of sorrows which means we should be identifying with each other well. We should share all our sorrows and heartaches with each other on that life-less paper. I was dreaming how I will wait for the letter to come to my house and I will open and read desperately. But regrettably I was brought up in a very conservative family where my elders were not all open to these things. These kinds of stuff were not so cool for them at all. I had to suppress the desire of having a pen pal.
Later in the life when I started taking my own decisions I made a great pal whom I used to call ‘Sassy.’ She was from Philippines and was very beautiful. She was married, who loved her husband and son a lot. But she was sad always as her husband was jobless. I used to encourage her every time when we contact each other. She was a very nice friend of mine. Even she called me once on the phone. Remember, ISD calls were very expensive then. But she did call me. That was a great feeling. But unfortunately she was not my ‘pen pal’ but a ‘chat pal.’ So my ‘pen pal’ dream of my childhood became a reality in the form of a ‘chat pal’ when I started working and was staying alone. I had many online friends during my bachelorhood. But she was the best among all.
Life changed. I grew in life and I know, once I joined different writers community, I got pals after pals. I never got a pen pal though but had many pals online. Some were forgotten and some are very precious to my heart who are still part of my life. Some say I have inspired them and some have really inspired me a lot. Pals are pals.
But even today I think, “Wish I had a Pen Pal!”
(Originally Posted HERE)
Once I bought something for a someone special, it was his first day of job in a very reputed company, he had bought a new wardrobe, ties, shirts, shoes, accessories, etc. , and I decided he needed something to complete the look. On the morning he got dressed meticulously, wearing crisp and ironed shirts, pleated trousers, making that perfect tie knot, polished shiny shoes, all accessories in place, and my heart did a somersault to see him look like a gentleman, but something lacked. I presented him with the small box, I had bought them from eBay, a pair of cuff links, smooth, cabochon cut, the satellite stones set into a sleek, beautiful, natural colour variation framed by a textured surround, sterling silver from Harrods of London for 300 Pounds. His eyes lit up as he opened the box and as he saw what was inside, his face fell, he looked at me with a helpless look and returned me the box saying he won’t take such a costly gift from me, I looked up at his face in surprise, feeling rejected and insisted that he can’t say no to my gift of love, but he wouldn’t accept them and kept them back in my bag, tears of hurt rolled down my face, and he wiped them with the back of his hand. “I want something from you, I demand it, but it should be yours, it shouldn’t be Mohamed Al-Fayed’s”, his comment made me laugh, and I nodded understanding his point. I took a pen from my purse, a simple Uniball pen, but it was my lucky pen, I had kept it with me forever, given all exams from that one pen and gave it to him, he took it, kissed it, and tucked it in his pocket. “This you are never getting back, come what may”, he told me with a smile, and my heart warmed up, and this time another kind of tear rolled down my eyes as I looked up at him, the pen sat in his breast pocket proudly and looked perfect there, he looked complete.
Quill & Parchment 