Most of us would have a memory attached to writing. I have one too.
Every new year, Appa (father) would bring home blank designer diaries of varying sizes distributed by companies for advertisement.
Designer calendars, also distributed by companies hung on the walls is/was a common sight in households.
But these diaries hold a special memory. Me and my sister would handpick the most beautiful diaries and would agree to hand over the rest to relatives or friends, only if it was asked for.
There was a pattern; the initial few pages would contain calendars, mathematical conversion units and sundry other information.
But the foremost thing was to search for our birth date in the calendar and circle it. I know it sounds a little weird but it just felt good to highlight the iconic date though I am not a celebrating-birthday-the-grand-way type.
We could never finish the pages of the diaries nor did we use it for the purpose initially intented for (journaling on daily basis) yet each year we did await for some new collections.
Writing on the first page was an event of our life. It had to be perfect – good handwriting; no cancellations; words properly aligned. It was the same for the school books of all subjects. Oh! Designing our name on the first page for self proclamation that now it’s MY diary was necessary.
But the burst of excitement when our parents bought us a diary with a lock and key is incomparable. We still have it and hopefully, the key is safe somewhere in our shelves.
Of course, there are/were diaries in varied formats – a Journal, an Organizer or a Planner but it’s surprising that there’s still a market for diaries in physical form considering the surge in the usage of online tools for all the relevant purposes.
It’s funny to read the problems the younger self had to go through.
A fight with a friend over refusal on coming out to play was one of them.