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A lost pen that came back with a friend

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ONE rarely thanks providence on being deprived of a material possession. In this case, however, the loss of a valued item brought together the loser and the finder as friends for life.

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Last year, while at a crowded literary gathering, I happened to drop my favourite pen. I valued it sentimentally more than for any intrinsic market value. My enquiries with the organisers drew a blank. Ages ago, while at school, everyone accepted the adage ‘finders keepers and losers weepers’. Accordingly, I did not weep, but reconciled myself to the parting stoically. A deserving finder might well use the humble item to compose lyrics or masterpieces of purple prose — thus I consoled myself.

It was several months later that I received an unexpected phone call from the institute where the pen had disappeared. It had been found, they told me. I was informed that the finder was a literary figure of note, and a distinguished former Army officer to boot. Apparently, the gentleman had gone to great pains to trace me. Only a sleuth from an investigating agency or the intelligence wing of the armed forces could have scripted this lost-and-found story, I reasoned. Here was truly a display of determination and persistence for a small cause.

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Rather than simply taking back my pen, I requested a meeting with this person. I had to wait several weeks. In the meantime, I studied some of the writings and work of the retired Colonel (for so he turned out to be). By the time we met, I knew a fair bit about his range of interests. After his retirement from the armed forces, he had taken to writing and journalism. I was told that he had done a substantial study of military history. At the gathering where we met for the return of my prized possession, he shared the dais with the chief speaker, a former General. It was there that we, two literal pen friends, came face-to-face.

It turned out to be an invigorating interaction. I was flattered to learn that the Colonel (meticulous as he was) knew well-nigh everything about my background, including my dabbling in writing and my career in the civil service. We conversed about civil and military affairs, sports and literature. Books and writing were our meeting ground.

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Bibliophiles share a trite maxim, ‘He is a fool that lends a book; a greater fool that returns a borrowed volume.’ For me, the tale of the returned pen falsified the ‘guidelines’ for borrowed books. I am thankful to fate for bringing together as friends in the world of books two disparate persons who otherwise might never have met.

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