For the past two months, I’ve been consciously practicing taking notes by hand. It’s not like I never did it before, but let’s just say my relationship with handwriting has been an on-again, off-again kind of thing. This time, though, I’ve really started to appreciate it—not just as a tool, but as something deeply human. And the more I think about it, the more I feel that writing by hand is a lost practice that deserves a serious comeback.
The Magic of Writing—Where It All Began
Imagine a world where thoughts vanished as quickly as they appeared—no wisdom passed down, no "Dadi ke Nuskhe," no lessons from the past. We’d be stuck reinventing the wheel over and over, unaware that someone had already done it before.
But then, someone discovered how to carve into rocks—perhaps through trial and error, a process lost to time. Eventually, they started drawing pictures, capturing moments beyond memory. And then came writing.
Writing changed everything. It freed us from relying on oral tradition alone. No longer did we need an elder to recall the details of a great hunt —now, it could all be recorded, preserved, and passed down. It made laws enforceable, stories timeless, and knowledge immortal. It connected people across generations and geographies, shaping the course of history itself.
And then, computers arrived—revolutionizing history once again, but slowly taking writing away. More on that later... 😊
The Brain’s Love Affair with Handwriting
But beyond history, writing by hand does something truly fascinating: it makes our brains work harder—and better. There’s actual research backing this up. Writing by hand engages different neural pathways than typing does. It forces us to slow down, process information differently, and actually think about what we’re putting on paper. Studies have shown that students who take handwritten notes retain information better than those who type them. I guess that explains why I can vividly remember the weird doodles I used to make next to my notes in school, but not a single bullet point from a digital document I typed last week.
I’ve also noticed that handwriting helps me clarify my own thoughts. When I write something down, it feels more real—like my brain is shaping the thought as I move my pen across the page. It’s a much more deliberate process compared to typing, where it’s easy to keep hitting backspace until the words magically arrange themselves into something semi-coherent.
Last but not the least, it feels great after you have taken 2 pages of your own notes after reading 10 pages or going through a long 1 hour video online. I use colors to further personalize my notes.
Calligraphy: The Art That We Forgot We Loved
There was a time when writing wasn’t just functional—it was an art form. Calligraphy, whether in ancient Chinese scripts, Arabic calligraphic flourishes, or medieval illuminated manuscripts, was an expression of beauty. Even a simple handwritten letter used to carry a certain personality, a unique fingerprint of the writer. Today, that art is disappearing. I mean, let’s be honest—when was the last time you looked at someone’s handwriting and thought, “Wow, that’s beautiful”?
Handwriting used to be a statement. Now, we’ve reduced it to something that barely gets used unless we’re scribbling a grocery list (and even that is often typed into a phone). We even sign digitally now. But there’s something deeply satisfying about writing neatly and beautifully, even if it’s just for myself.
Then Came Computers—And We Stopped Writing
Of course, technology changed everything. The typewriter, the computer, the smartphone—all of these made writing faster, more efficient, and more convenient. And hey, I love technology. I can’t imagine drafting this entire piece without some typing, google search and (shoo.... copy paste). But somewhere along the way, we lost our connection with the act of writing itself.
I see kids today (yeah, I sound old, I know) who barely use pens and notebooks. They take notes on tablets, type essays on laptops, and sign documents with digital signatures. And while I get the convenience, I can’t help but wonder—are they missing out on something?
Does Good Handwriting Even Matter Anymore?
What does it mean to have good handwriting in a world where we barely use it? Will it become like Latin—respected, but mostly obsolete? Maybe. But I’d like to think there’s still a place for it. There’s a kind of joy in writing a heartfelt letter, jotting down ideas in a notebook, or even just doodling in the margins. Handwriting gives thoughts a tangible form, something that typing on a screen just doesn’t replicate.
There’s also something deeply personal about handwritten notes. A handwritten journal feels like a real extension of the person writing it. I can always tell when I’m reading my old notes because my handwriting reflects my mood, my energy, even the kind of pen I used that day. You don’t get that with a font.
How Do We Convince Gen-Z to Pick Up a Pen?
This is tricky. I can’t exactly go up to a teenager and say, “Hey kid, you should write by hand more often—it’ll build character.” (I mean, I could, but I’d probably get an eye-roll.) The only real way to convince anyone is to make them experience it.
Maybe the key is to start small. Challenge yourself to write a to-do list instead of typing it. Keep a handwritten journal for a week. Try calligraphy for fun. Just feel what it’s like to let your thoughts flow through a pen instead of a keyboard. If it resonates, you’ll want to do it more. If it doesn’t, well, at least you tried.
Where Do I Go from Here?
For me, handwriting isn’t something I plan to let go of anytime soon. I’ll keep my digital notes for efficiency, but my thoughts, my reflections, and the things that truly matter—I’ll keep writing those down by hand. Because at the end of the day, there’s something deeply human about putting pen to paper. And I don’t want to lose that.
