BALL PEN BANDITS - A First person account from one of the Dreaded Gang
Never find a pen when you want one? Me too.
Where do they go to ? I look at working spaces as areas packed with dozens of invisible , mythical elves maliciously and magnetically gathering up ball pens by the armfuls, leaving defenseless souls like me with just an iPAq and stylus.
I need you to answer this question, hand on heart. It’s in the public domain, so I cannot guarantee siren-screaming carloads of policemen will not be hotly following your trail. Perhaps it’s categorized as misdemeanor and not a grand felony. Who knows, maybe they will just send in the rookies.
Right, let’s get down to it. Have you ever purloined a pen? By happenstance, glue or intent ? Confess. Well, ( deep breath here ) , I have. In fact , among the two pens nestling right now in resplendent plastic freedom in my capacious handbag, and playing a constant hard to get, let me admit, with my head hanging in abject guilt, neither is mine. There - I said it . I am one of the accursed ones -a Ball Pen Bandit. It’s the blight of the modern generation, the fast city life that we lead, the resultant lack of moral fiber and upstanding ethics. The expensive ones I have had last a day ,but the Rs. 5 plastic pens have done time of nearly a week , and in one instance ( it was a fat little red Kingfisher Airlines pen ) , it was almost an entire fortnight that we were together .
No , no, don’t worry , I watch all the detective serials on TV, and I have kept two of my lawyer friends on stand by , since I am aware , everything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law. My young lawyer friend just called to check whether there was any incriminating evidence. I said, yes there is, and it’s in the bag. I think he thinks it’s a gun, and I have finally lost my marbles and put a bullet through the pesky Car loan Telemarketer or my much hated Kitchen Designer . It’s tough, he knows, and there is provocation enough from these people, but still, a person in my position ought to be more careful , he says. . Get rid of it, he mutters inaudibly. But I’m still using it, I counter, so why should I ? Is it loaded, he asks? Why else would I carry it around in my purse, I shrug. That’s the whole point isn’t it – it should work in case I decide to use it. He says he is coming right over, and not to move or say anything till he reaches there. He asks me quickly if he and I are okay , and if I feel he has ever upset or irritated me in any way in the past . I am little flummoxed , and when I vociferously deny that ( he is such a great guy ) , he seems to be oddly relieved .
Let’s start at the very beginning. As a child, I moved from short sharp, pencils to leaky fountain pens and then regular ball pens. And then like Art Buchwald, after pens vanished within a blink-second of being with me, I started believing in the Ballpoint Fairy . After I lost my fathers two Parker ink pens, and one Mont Blanc in quick succession , I found that he would make a sign of the Cross , and start sprinkling Ganga-jal when I approached his study table to write something . A little over the top, I felt . I remember when the shiny Black and Gold Parker pen that he had kept safely since his graduation in early 1820 . It was ‘lost’ at my 10th Standard Board exams (no doubt to another smooth practiced Ball Pen Bandit), after which he has lost all faith in me . Not a single pen will you get from me ever again , he thundered, profoundly affecting my impressionable 14 year old mind, and possibly wrecking my delicate mental equilibrium forever . My surviving 1840 vintage Parker Pen will now be willed to my elder nephew, some one who is a darned sight more careful then you , and knows how to value important, sentimental things. Or possibly, even to the Battersea Dogs Home, he adds . I quaked. (Or is it I Quook?)
I wonder whether there is a movie script here. Richly defined characters, lots of early trauma , random pens, and glimpse of dark soul. Maybe they can get Vidya Balan or Chitrangada Singh to play me in the 70 MM version. And Amitabh Bachhan to play the Pen Proud Father (PPF). Well really , The Bachhan and the PPF do share a rich baritone, and both do thunder at you so beautifully . A potentially delightful display of righteous wrath.
Somehow all my pens get lost. It’s not surprising that the most expensive pen I bought was Rs 25 because it wrote in both blue and red. My shrink tells me that these initial incidents had a profound effect on me , and having suffered this horrible loss, I never fully recovered , and although I have fought the urge desperately, I have succumbed to the final ignominy of this abuse ,and became willy-nilly one of them – an inadvertent but definitive Ball Pen Bandit. We had a wonderful intervention when a group of nearly a hundred people helped me confront this horrible truth. The Ball Pen Bandits Anonymous (BBA ) is a little known Group. We value our privacy, and keep a low key profile. Bangalore Chapter Meetings are held in the football stadium behind the William Penn Store in Koramangala. Sometimes the current Group Leader exhibits his show of strength to his flock by a simple trial by fire. He strolls through the 10000 square foot Stationery store, lined with every writing instrument available, and even whistles a tune. We do notice that this brave, brave man trembles uncontrollably after he returns, and gulps like a fish, but the thunderous round of applause after his triumphant return is a big motivator for him and all of us. Good people, these.
For the first week of therapy, I had a BBA Buddy who went ahead to every place I went , and recommended that they lock up their plastic pens. We have therapy sessions once a week, but she is clever this shrink – not a single pen on the desk when I walk in . Not one. The attendance register at my office now has the ball pen tied and knotted with string to the spine of the book. When I sign the roster, I have tried a discreet tug , now and then, but darn, my colleague at the front office , she’s good too, I must admit . Very good.
Well, I must go. The young lawyer is here now and has just asked me to sign a document ad attest a copy of the shrink’s certificate . He pushes paper and pen toward me. It’s a Kingfisher Airline Ball pen, one of my favorites. And such a steal. I vaguely put it away in my bag after we sign off. He sighs, but knows it goes with the job, and gets added to the bill.
(First published in Daily Mirror , Bangalore )
