Calligraphy and Me
If you ever visit my home, you will see brush pens and papers everywhere. Literally everywhere.
Lockdown. The first wave of a virus which everyone calls Covid-19. I was just promoted to 9th grade then, the history chapters of 8th grade still super fresh in my mind. “Calligraphy is the art of beautiful handwriting”, the first chapter told me.
Beautiful writing. From when is handwriting an art? Dancing can be, writing can be, but handwriting?
Anyways, back to the point. I remember searching “calligraphy” in google and becoming awestruck with the wide variety of pens and styles and fonts and papers. I was a bit intimidated, to be honest.
Here I am two years later, expressing myself using handwriting. Calligraphy has taught me handwriting is realio, truolio an art. The art where I learnt about so many perspectives, so many colours, so many fonts and most importantly I have finally found out what I like from the plethora of activities people indulge in.
Perhaps my most favourite part of doing calligraphy lies in reaching out to people whom I don’t even know, but I know that someone is smiling after reading the card I have made, someone’s eyes are twinkling from reading that Christmas wish. I love when people ask me to make a card for some children living in a remote village or for someone’s birthday. It melts my heart upon realising that I am making people happy with my art and that a part of me will rest in there even after I leave the world. Doesn’t it feel good to think you will be there, alive, in the arts you have created.
Never knew a line in my history textbook would enhance a part of me. Books do create wonders, don’t they?
Thank you “the art of beautiful writing” for becoming a part of my life.
