In the era of globalisation, we’ve all turned techno-savvy. From tiny tots to old grandmas, they all type out messages and emails all at lightening fast speed. They’ve ditched the good ol’ fountain pen and the quintessential notepad. Writing is too old school, they reckon. How unfair, I allege!
Come to think of it, it’s one of the first things you’re taught at pre-school, and one of the first ways you’re taught to express yourself. I vividly recall how my mother painstakingly held my hand and taught me how to wield the pencil. For all the things I owe to her- writing is the foremost. Papa would sit me for hours on the dining table teaching me the finer nuances of calligraphy. From an early stage, my maternal grandmother planted the thoughts of perhaps one day becoming the next Wilde, Wells or Wodehouse in my head.
So what is it about the written word that makes us go giddy? Its growing rarity in the day of email, technology and text speak? Or perhaps its intimacy, history and freedom? Or the fact we see the tardy procedure: scribbled out sentences, the misspelt words and the unique scratch of someone’s handwriting, instead of the ease of the delete button?
I think it’s the simple joy it brings — whether you’re the one opening an envelope or the one sealing it before sending your handwritten note to a dear friend or family member, knowing it’s going to liven up their day.
This all begs the question — why have we all stopped writing, when it’s such a brilliant way to communicate with someone? When did this transition happen? I’m left bamboozled and baffled when I seek answers to these questions.
I establish my argument by returning to the fundamental question: why do we write? Letters were sent around the country and across the world as one of our only methods of communication.
Now, however, we rely on emails and social networking sites, turning the letter into a lost art. What a pity! I visited the post office the other day to send a post-card to my friend studying in Manipal. The dilapidated state of the post office was nothing short of haunting. The lady at the counter let out a little laugh, the sarcasm was hard to miss — “Arey! Who posts this stuff aajkal?” I must confess, I felt a little sheepish. So, I came home, and reasoned with my father over dinner: why don’t we give it up? Like every time, my father offered a flawless explanation by returning to the basics.
It’s probably because writing means more than just plain communication, more than getting a message to someone else. It’s a complex process — a process that means something to both the writer and the recipient. It’s a systematic flow of emotions, feelings and sentiments. Expressing them in your own hand reveals your state of mind.
Not only do letters have a personal touch, accentuate the amount of effort a person has made, and evoke a certain emotion within us all, but there’s also a scientific angle to this fine art. Letters and notes engage more senses than an email does – the subtle feel of the paper, indents from the pen’s nib, slight scuffs and rips, as well as the delicate smell of it: the knowledge that someone took the time to handle it, write on it, and send it to you.
Letters and notes make us feel special, regardless of whether we’re the ones writing them, or the ones receiving them. So, pick up your pen and scrawl a note for your better half, loved one or your long-lost friend. Scribble away. Believe me, it’s therapeutic!
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