Are you someone who gets excited about a new notebook or pen? If yes, you’re not alone. Here’s my story…
Ever since I was little, nothing made me happier than a new notebook or a new pen. Not toys. Not games. Not candies. Just me, my notebook with its crisp new pages and a pen along.
All my pocket money growing up was spent on fancy pens, notebooks, better paints, brushes and glossy sheets. It’s hard to describe how magical it felt to dip my paintbrush into new paints or write the very first sentence in a new diary.
I don’t know when or how my love for stationery started. Maybe, it was because my sister used to buy all kinds of it and I, just like the younger sister I was, would pester her to let me use those. Or maybe, because means were less, and we weren’t allowed to buy more until we had used up all existing ones.
As a child, I remember telling my friends,” Just wait until I grow up, I am going to spend all my adult money on all kinds of stationery.”
And let’s just say-I’ve lived by it.
Over the years, I literally have memories and incidents attached to some kind of stationery.
Like the time my grade 1 teacher confiscated my brand-new red pencil box that looked like a bus. I still remember – it had a string attached at the back, and when you pulled it, the box would move ahead like an actual bus. I was so happy that I kept showing it to my friends all day-kept playing with it. But then, my teacher noticed, and in one swift move, it was gone. She said , “Such fancy stationery isn’t allowed in school.” She wasn’t wrong- she only followed the rules. But I guess the little 5 year old me didn’t take it too well. Because even today, years later, I still remember that pencil box. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget how it felt to lose something that made me that happy.
When I was 10-11 years old, there was a new fad – Fabriano sheets. Pretty A4-sized papers that came in every color you could think of. They were mostly used for crafts and were fancy. Expensive. Almost too special to use. My sister, who was amazing at crafts, had them. Had too many of them, actually, because she made beautiful handmade cards for birthdays, anniversaries—you name it. Her stash was like a dream, neatly stacked and carefully guarded. And as the younger child I was, my eyes were always stuck on those sheets. And every time I had any school work that included craft, no matter how basic- I would walk up to her and say- “please give me just 1 fabriano. I promise I won’t waste it.” Sometimes she gave in. Sometimes she didn’t. But I always felt like I had won the lottery when I got to use one.
I feel, the joy in little is so much more than having everything.
Today, if I want to buy any stationery, I can just open Amazon and add in everything to my cart. Even things I’ve never seen in real life and probably didn’t even know of its existence until I opened the app. Even items only sold in another city. It’s convenient. It’s fast. But honestly, the joy of going to that tiny shop near home, asking the shopkeeper for that one particular crayon and browsing every new thing that’s come in the market while he digs through boxes-that feeling is unmatched. Sometimes we even went to 2-3 different shops searching for a marker someone brought to school. And more often than not, we’d come back disappointed. But even in that disappointment, there was something beautiful. Something real.
Because it wasn’t just about having that thing.
It was about the wait, the want, the little thrill in finding it one day.
I remember- none of my friends ever brought their own stationery for school projects because they knew I’d bring mine. And I was always happy to lend a pen or two (or ten), not because I wanted to show off, but because sharing meant being part of their creative spark too.
In a world of digital everything, I still like handwritten notes and handmade cards. I still like taking notes of something on paper rather than on my phone. It gives me a sense of creation- like I made it, even if it’s just a pretty note.
I still can’t walk past a stationery shop without stopping. Or resist buying that cute little notebook. And honestly, I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.
I am sure, every stationery lover has once thought: Maybe I should just open my own stationery or art store. Or at the very least, wished for a day when all the stationery in the world was free. I know I have. I may not own a stationery shop (yet), but I do own hundreds of tiny moments tied to the things I once begged, borrowed, or saved up for.
And honestly, that’s more than enough.
Do you have a favorite stationery memory? Or a pen you just can’t part with? I’d love to hear your stories—drop them in the comments below!
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