Hot off the press

Right in the middle

Though I am not against reading an e-paper, I prefer to read solid, physical newspapers. Call me a creature of habit, but like others of my generation, I am accustomed to reading newspapers, fresh off the press. Why? There are many tangible reasons. The first and foremost reason is that newspapers are not a strain on my eyes. I cannot stay with my eyes glued to the computer screen for long. Furthermore, the entire process of reading an e-paper appears to me to be so artificial that I am having difficulty adjusting to this modern way of reading a newspaper on a computer.

Taking my newspaper in my hands, page by page, concentrating on headlines and editorials, savouring each sentence and word, and absorbing bits of news and ideas from articles, on the other hand, is a process that brings me great joy every morning. While sipping a steaming cup of coffee in the morning, my eyes run over the news at a slow and leisurely pace. The sound of the paper rustling as I turn the pages is pleasant to my ears. I enjoy the feel of the newspaper, and there exists an inexplicable bond between the newspaper and me.

I have to sit upright in a chair, with my hand on the mouse and my eyes glued to the screen, while reading an e-paper. It hurts my back, strains my eyes, and hurts my hands. Even a laptop doesn't make it easy, and the screen is too small for my comfort. Often, in the middle of reading the morning e-paper, the paper on the screen simply vanishes and the system shuts down due to power outages that are common during the summer. And when the power is back, I have to switch on my computer, navigate the mouse, and launch a fresh search for the e-paper.

But with my newspaper, I am at liberty to read it at the pace, place, and posture of my choosing. I mean, I can sit with my back straight on a chair, stretch on an arm chair, or lie down on a sofa or settee. If my eyes blink in pain, my hands twist in pain, and my back creaks, I can toss the paper aside and pick it up later; I need not worry about the paper vanishing from my sight—it is there for me to read in the morning, afternoon, and night.

So I pick up my newspaper every morning as the paperboy flings it onto the threshold of our house, settle down comfortably with it on my chair, and launch myself into the pleasure of reading over a cup of frothy, brown, aromatic, delicious coffee.

Maybe that's the peaceful happiness that every newspaper reader of my generation seeks every morning.