"Those were the days..."
It's a sentence we say more often as we grow older. Not because everything in the past was better, but because some memories refuse to fade. They stay with us like the smell of a brand-new notebook that somehow still exists somewhere in the back of our minds.
If you grew up in India during the 80s, 90s, or early 2000s, this journey might feel familiar.
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A Pencil Was Never Just a Pencil, School reopened after the summer holidays. The first stop wasn't the classroom, It was the stationery shop.
Standing in front of glass shelves filled with pencils, erasers, sharpeners, geometry boxes, ink bottles, rulers and pens felt like standing in front of a treasure chest.
We argued over brands as if we were experts.
"Use Apsara." "No, Camlin is better.", "Nataraj is stronger."
Then Apsara arrived with something new. It wasn't just another pencil. It taught us that pencils actually had grades.
HB. B. 2B. 4B. H. 2H.
For the first time we realized that pencils had personalities.
Some were darker.
Some were harder.
Some were made for artists.
Some were made for school.
A simple wooden stick had suddenly become science.
---
The Perfect Pencil Shaving, Children today may never understand why sharpening a pencil was satisfying.
Not because we needed a sharp point.
Because we wanted that perfect wooden curl.
If the shaving came out in one long spiral without breaking... Victory.
A tiny flower made of cedar wood sat on the desk for a few seconds before someone inevitably crushed it.
Oddly enough, those tiny victories mattered.
---
The Great Eraser Debate,
Every classroom had experts, Someone insisted Camlin was the best. Someone swore by Nataraj. Then there were the loyal followers of the Apsara Non-Dust Eraser. It erased cleanly. It didn't chew the paper. It left almost no dust.
Children don't usually discuss engineering. Yet somehow we could spend an entire lunch break debating erasers.
---
The Geometry Box Was Sacred, Opening a new geometry box was a ceremony. Everything had its place.
Compass, Divider, Protractor, Set squares, Sharpener.
Nothing was missing, Nothing was rusty.
Some of us even opened the box repeatedly just to hear that satisfying click. And heaven help the friend who borrowed your compass and returned it with a bent needle.
---
When Pens Meant Growing Up, Then came the promotion.
The fountain pen.
Suddenly handwriting mattered, Ink bottles appeared. Blue fingers became normal.
Every notebook carried at least one accidental ink stain.
Then came ballpoint pens.
Rotomac, Reynolds, Cello.
Each one felt like technology.
Then one day...
Someone walked into class carrying a Pilot pen.
The classroom noticed.
Not because it was expensive, Because it looked important.
Holding it for even a minute felt like borrowing adulthood.
And above Pilot...There was only one king.
Parker.
A Parker wasn't bought, It was gifted.
For passing board exams, For birthdays, For milestones.
It lived safely inside its case.
Nobody casually borrowed a Parker.
---
We Waited...
Perhaps that's what made everything special.
We waited.
We waited for the new academic year.
We waited to buy a new geometry box.
We waited until the old pencil became too small.
We waited until we earned our first fountain pen.
We waited until one day someone gifted us a Parker.
Today almost everything arrives same day.
Back then, waiting was part of the happiness.
---
Today we can speak instantly with someone thousands of kilometers away.
That is a miracle.
The internet has taught us, connected us, entertained us and even created friendships that would never have existed otherwise.
But it has quietly changed something else. We know people from five continents. Sometimes we barely know the neighbour living five steps away.
A family of four may sit together after dinner.
Each person is talking... To someone else.
The room is silent.
The phones are not.
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Maybe It Was Never About the Stationery
Perhaps we don't really miss Apsara pencils. Or Camlin geometry boxes. Or fountain pens. Or Parker.
We miss the world around them.
Friends arguing over whose pencil wrote darker.
Teachers telling us to stop clicking the geometry box.
Parents buying us one new notebook because money wasn't unlimited.
Running home to cover textbooks with brown paper.
The smell of fresh pages.
Ink-stained fingers.
Wooden pencil shavings.
Those objects became memories because they were shared with people.
---
A Message to Today's Children
One day...
You will probably tell your children about tablets, AI, smartphones and games.
And they will smile politely.
Just as we smile when our parents talk about radios and handwritten letters.
Every generation has its own magic.
But if I could borrow one thing from my childhood, it wouldn't be a Parker pen.
It would be those evenings when friendships happened face to face, happiness fit inside a pencil box, and the greatest luxury in the classroom was the chance to write your name with a brand-new pen.
Those really were the days. ✏️📚💙
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