In an age where writing is rapidly being replaced by keyboards, voice-to-text, and artificial intelligence applications, a glass dip pen, some blue ink, and a pretty paper notebook feel almost obsolete. No matter how fast technology is gobbling up the art of writing, replacing its minor cons with speed, accuracy, and countless other conveniences, it will never be able to steal away the ‘magic’ of handwriting. The friction of the nib on paper, the flow of ink, and the pleasant scritch on the paper will continue to stir the memory reservoirs of older generations as long as they live.
Writing is therapeutic. When done right, it is meditative, too. It fine-tunes dexterity, strengthens the neural pathways, and sharpens memory. Unlike typing, handwriting requires practice, skill, and, most importantly, a well-functioning nervous system, which most of us have taken for granted.
Handwriting, especially with a dip pen, is indeed slower and often messy, with ink spills and stains. You make mistakes because there is no autocorrect, delete key or fancy inbuilt formatting tools. When a mistake is made, the only options are erasing, striking it out and rewriting, or tearing the paper away, crumpling it into a ball, and tossing it into the wastepaper basket. But handwriting is an art, and like all art, it should be preserved.
What I love about handwriting is that it is profound and more powerful than the typed word. The written word carries our energy. When the fingers wrap around the pen it becomes a conduit between our soul and the paper. The pressure we put on paper when we are angry, the light scribbles of fleeting ideas, the thoughtful and careful strokes when writing to someone who matters. All of it holds something real, something alive. Our eyes follow every contact point, every curve, every crossing, every dot, letting the words absorb the energy within. Unlike typed words, handwritten ones have the potential to manifest into something tangible. To be a blessing or a curse.
I just realised that I am typing all these words with my busy thumb, on a device. We cannot hide from the digital shift without facing extinction. But I will always carve out time in my day to keep this practice of handwriting alive and go back to a time when typing was not even a dream. And I hope every good thing I write in this book will come true. For me, for you, and for the world.