The old plastic pencil boxes were no match for these sleek magnetic pencil boxes! They won our hearts in an instance!
It immediately caught my eye as she took it out of her bag. The white tube-light on top of our bench glistened on its shiny cover. It was amazing, stupendous and marvellous. It was the first magnetic pencil box I had seen. I still didn’t know it was magnetic of course, but the secret was unravelled when she easily popped it upon with her thumb and it snapped back shut on its own when she had removed the pencil. I looked at her beseechingly and her eyes granted the permission; I could touch the box! It was really soft to touch and the box was double-sided.
I opened it myself like she had, four fingers at the back and the thumb opening it with a light push. Inside, each different piece of stationery had its own compartment. The pencils had their grooves. The fat erasers and sharpeners sat in their houses. The small ruler and more pencils were stationed on the other side of the box. My hand got a gentle rap from her when I repeatedly opened and shut the box. I looked at my own pencil box, shamefully red and shamefully plastic. The soft click of the magnetic pencil box and the loud crack of the plastic pencil box cannot co-exist on the same bench, I resolved.
That day at school was but a blur with the focus on the magnetic beauty. The evening was spent in a round of request to mum and dad on the merits of a new magnetic pencil box. Finally dad gave in, of course and I let out a squeal of delight as we left for the stationery store. I stood on my toes as dad asked the guy at the counter to show us the magic boxes. Of course the box selected by my process was vetted by dad. Anything that was too expensive and fragile was frowned upon and was selected only after a pleading look. As I walked back home, with one hand held by dad and the other firmly clutching the magnetic pencil box, I silently wondered how much power the magnet had and how long it would last.
