My experience with Corona

The hullabaloo caused by the coronavirus reminds me that I too had a Corona once. Not the dreaded virus, but a second- hand Smith Corona portable typewriter, my most cherished possession at that time, bought from a friend for a princely sum of Rs.450.

Those were the days when manual typewriters were an integral part of every office. Since offices preferred typewritten applications, and normally every application needed to be attached with copies of documents attested by a gazette officer, there used to be one or two typists outside those dealing with the general public.

Those typists who could draft applications for their illiterate or semi-literate clients were in great demand. They also got hectic business at the beginning of the academic year as schools and colleges asked for several documents from those seeking admission.

There would be a number of typists with their 'standard' typewriters, plying their trade in small cubicles nearby, and sometimes even on street corners. There was no dearth of onlookers either, watching in wonder the speed with which the typist's hands flew over the keyboard, without even looking at it.

Since photocopying machines had not yet appeared in the country, typists used to take up to five copies on thinner sheets of paper with carbon papers. The machines usually had a black-and-red ribbon, making it possible for the first copy a little colourful.

Though there were aids like correcting inks, and special rubber, great care was taken to avoid mistakes, as correcting all copies was a time-consuming task and it spoiled the look of the typed page.

I had a friend near the local sessions court, earning his livelihood by typing for the litigants. Since every page was charged for, the margins on all four sides used to be wide, as was the distance between two lines.

Things had undergone a sea-change when I visited his work-place some years after his death. His son had taken over the job, but the old typewriter was nowhere to be seen. In its place were a computer, a printer, and a photocopying machine.

He was happy he could type on a computer which had fonts of different shapes and sizes. With several other features available on the computer, his job had become easy. An added feature was that the work did not make any sound, as did the typewriter.

Standing there, I remembered the past, when typewriting institutes were much sought after. Most youngsters in Kerala used to join an English typewriting and shorthand institute after passing the SSLC examination, equivalent to the present day's standard XI. The idea was to go to north India in search of a job as a stenographer or typist.

Our small town also had such a famous institute, run by a retired army officer with impeccable command of the English language. The training at the institute came in handy when, years later, I became a college teacher, and typed my question papers on a typewriter of the college, or on my Smith Corona in the comforts of my home.