Remember your first Fountain Pen?

Those were the days when we did not have ballpoint pens around.

I used to covet my mother's beautiful Shaeffer, a black and white striped shell bodied pen, very large and easy to hold. Pure gold nib and clip.

Whenever I had the opportuniy, I used to use it.

My mother noticed that I was getting quite good at writing with a pen. On my 10th birthday in 1953, she bought me a wonderful pen by the brand name of "Platinum". It was expensive with a lovely gold plated cover. The body was a wonderful purplish shade.

I loved it the minute I got it. I spent the next hour writing and writing.

I knew I would proudly show it off in school that day.

Bishop Cotton Boys' School was just ten minutes away, as we used to run to school in the morning and run back to have our evening tea. Then we would get into our sports uniform and run back as we had so many pitches that each year had its own pitch.

On morning of my birthday, after filling the pen full of ink, I proudly pushed the clip into my khaki shirt pocket and rushed to school.

Everyone in my class loved the pen. I could see many were envious, but I let lots of the boys use it. The teachers told me how lucky I was to get such a nice present.

I set of home at 15.30, when school lessons were over. I jumped over the school back gate next to the Bangalore Club, and ran down to the petrol station at Richmond Circle, where the manager was a good friend of mine. I showed him the pen, and he loved it. (He was a palmist and in 1953 read my palm and told me I would marry a girl with golden hair and have four children! Amazing fellow!)

I pushed the pen firmly back in my pocket and ran the 50 metres back to home down Lalbagh Road,

I rushed to tell my mom how everyone had loved my pen. As I was babling my story to her, I put my hand on the clip to show the pen to her. As I pulled the clip out, only the clip came out. There was no pen. I felt inside the pocket, but there was no pen body there.

I started to cry as I told my mom that it had been there just 2 minutes earlier.

She got the servants together and sent them to look for the pen on the road and pavement between the petrol station and home. I had crossed the road twice.

As we looked, we found no trace of the pen.

I was shattered.

I knew that if my dad got to hear of this he would scold my mom by saying I had been too young to be given such an expensive pen.

I clutched the beautiful gold top, my heart pounding with sorrow.

But my mom had an idea.

We quickly got into the car and went to the pen shop. There she asked the shopkeeper for a cheap pen but onto which my top was fitting. He gave a few pens. Out of them my mom chose one which was the best. She bought it, gave the cheap looking cover back to the shopkeeper and fixed my expensive platinum plated cover to this pen. She told me not to breathe a word to anyone, as it was our secret.

I scribbled with the pen, and it was just perfect. Although not quite the same purple, it was a lovely maroon colour. It looked almost identical. She had my name engraved on it in gold letters.

I had my new Platinum pen - a rather unique one, thanks to my mom.

Till this day no one knew the secret of my lost pen and how it was fixed!