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Why Fountain Pens Still Matter
Every morning, my grandfather would wake me for the dawn prayer. When it was over, he’d begin reciting the Qur’an, and I’d close my eyes and listen. His voice would rise for a moment, then fall back into a whisper. At that small age, that rhythm alone was enough to give me something close to reverence. I never once saw my grandfather fall back asleep after the morning prayer. Even on the day he died, he had prayed, read his Qur’an, and laid his head down to rest for a moment — and it was on that pillow that he handed back what had been entrusted to him. Not going... Read More



