Winds of Change

It's a very windy morning in the Capital, as I scroll through the news on my mobile. The numerous news apps I have on my phone, all try to grab my attention with curated news matching my likes and areas of interest, interspersed with the most updated news from all over the world. Yet, there's something impersonal and unappealing about this solitary scrolling. It doesn't give me the same experience that the newspapers did. The Lockdown started it all, when I was forced to download all these news apps and replace the good old newspaper with an icon on my phone. Though, with a semblance of new normal making way, I'm still a bit wary of going back to the old ways. The whole process of sanitization acting detrimental to my craving, I am one of the many who have turned to the news apps in place of the physical newspapers, atleast for now. Though the newspapers themselves have been coming with digitalized versions for many years now, the lure of the physical form always appealed more even when weighed on the environmentally conscious scales. The winds today make me reminisce how I would have struggled to grapple with the papers had I been juggling them in one hand and the coffee mug in another! All that is a thing of the past now, as I scroll deftly handling my phone as I surf and scroll rather mindlessly. But my mind wanders off the screen...

I miss those good old days! Mostly because the whole process of reading the newspapers carried so many fond memories of childhood and growing up years. I remember how the rustle of the papers and the aroma of filter coffee preluded the deep throated voice of my father as he woke us up. He would noisily fold the newspapers and call out to us while my brother and I would plead for a few more minutes of sleep before getting up for school. 

By the time we were in middle school, reading the papers was a must at home. The school demanded that we read out the headlines in the classroom and the parents insisted that we read them out aloud at home first, which also served as a lesson in intonation, pronunciation, vocabulary, sentence structure, all rolled into one! Then came a phase when my brother and I would take the refuge of the newspapers to just pretend reading them while all the time we were fighting off the early morning blues to get through the days. There were times we would fight over who would get to read what pages.

During the teenage years in Chennai, the only newspaper worth a read was The Hindu, of course. It was as much a part of any household as was the morning cup of filter coffee or tea.  The merits of the choice of the hot beverage could still be debated on either side, but The Hindu was sacrosanct...above all discussions and  debates and unequivocally accorded the highest status for its newsworthiness. My father did subscribe to The Times of India, Bombay edition as well, probably to get some business news, but for us, it acted like a window to another world. While The Hindu was read for the news, the writing style, the vocabulary and journalistic excellence, we relied on the Times for our entertainment. Come weekends and my brother and I would invariably fight over the Supplements. Come what may, reading newspapers at home was pretty much a family experience with everyone who was reading it, voicing out their opinions on a news item. My mother usually was the last one to get her hands on it, which was generally by late afternoon. Looking back on it now, I know probably the umpteem chores at home kept her busy through the mornings and she never did get the time to read the papers, which seems terribly unfair. But she did make up for it...by reading out the most interesting news articles she sifted from the numerous pages. As my brother and I fought over trivial issues after our supposedly tiring days at school and college, my mother would read out interesting snippets from the papers and ask us what we thought about them. Most often than not, both of us would have missed these interesting stories and we would make a grab for the papers from her hand. This was our regular exercise and I, feel guilty, even now, for not ever letting my mother read her papers in peace! 

The areas of interest subtly changed over the years from the comic strips and general news to the Jobs section. It was the highlight of my weekend reading from day one in college.  I would diligently go over each classified advertisement to see how many jobs I could qualify for and how many I didn't. Those days, that was the  surfing I enjoyed! 

Another big pastime was to read the Matrimonial ads on Sundays and my brother and I would make fun of the requirements in the Brides Wanted section and try to compare and contrast the type of ads in The Hindu and The Times.  Sadly, the commonalities of "fair, good looking, homely" were found in most ads across regions and newspapers. Depressingly, watching the much-in-news show 'Indian Matchmaking' on Netflix, the other day, the idea of a 'suitable girl' seems to have hardly changed inspite of the passing decades. This is where the winds of change need to blow. 

Today, with Smartphones in our hands and live feed from any seemingly newsworthy location, there is no fear of missing out on anything if one so wishes to keep themselves updated. The latest news is literally at our fingertips…but the memory of the ritual of newspaper-reading  at home is irreplaceable. Winds of change are good, necessary even...but not in all spheres.  The rustle of the newspapers, the distribution of sections among the family members, the smell of freshly printed newspaper mingling with the aroma of hot coffee, the quiet, gentle, laidback breeze of yesteryears...sometimes this is good, maybe even better than the cacophony of deafening newsreaders and the constant buzz of news updates.