From Void to Wonder
In Memory of the Newspaper
(My sister accidentally pulled open the sluice gates of memory today. A student of science, she had buried herself in Math books, but I noticed a corner of the Times NIE peeking out from the pile. At the sight of the newspaper, a wave of childhood nostalgia melted away the adult in me. Memories of hours spent with those carbon-printed sheets of wonder came rushing back. A fleeting Instagram post couldn’t possibly contain the lifetime of memories that followed…)
When I think of childhood pleasures, the first thing that comes to mind is reading the newspaper.
You might be imagining a nerdy, precocious girl right now.
Well, yes, in a way.
Welcome to the world of 11-year-old me—a 4th-grade student at a convent school.
Though introverted by nature, I was confident in expressing myself (with a shyness that gradually faded over time). I’ve always been an unusual combination of quiet and expressive.
My world was defined by weekend art classes, weekday studies, and watching *Taarak Mehta Ka Ooltah Chashmah on TV.
I detested performing arts like dance and music, avoided playing on the grounds, and didn’t enjoy making friends—I just didn’t fit in.
So, my world revolved around me and my solitary pursuits.
There were days I went through school without uttering a single word.
My school was situated in the bustling marketplace of Karol Bagh, New Delhi.
Yet, whether it was the blaring traffic, the chattering of girls in the corridors, or the everyday gossip, nothing could infiltrate my inner world.
In school, I had the luxury of vast, unclaimed swathes of time—during zero periods, lunch breaks, and when teachers were absent.
What did I look forward to?
The newspaper.
While the newspaper brought news from the outside world to me, it was my entire world—a teacher, a friend, and a soul-stirrer for a socially dry me.
Flipping through the pages of TOI NIE would mean like trotting the globe for me!
While the entire class deserted the classroom during breaks, my mind was a spring of ideas- stories of wonderful people, extraordinary plants, endemic animal and insect species and wonders of the world.
We humans have a way of compensating- when the world outside was dim for me with no social connections, the newspaper lit up my world. It was akin to watering a parched land, filling up the void with variety and vacuum with sound. It was like a friendly hug that consoled the loner in me.
The vibrant colours, facts, word search games and trivia excited me. The excitement and colours missing from the world around were subtly provided by the colourful infographics ;)
Wednesdays were most awaited- the special factoid edition was unmissable. Missing school on Wednesdays meant scouring for the missed copy on Thursday.
Such was the attachment to the newspaper that their use as a dust cloth or as a water absorbent spread on the ground for water-leaking bottles spelt personal assault.
The Christmas party at our school was the highlight of the year—the DJ played backstage, and the potluck lunch, contributed by a class of 50, offered variety king-sized!
Since I wasn’t one for dancing or music, I had little to do after indulging in the Christmas spread!
And once again, the newspaper came to my rescue. But seeing it laid out on tables like a disposable table mat saddened me deeply.
I so wished I could save every printed sheet!
I get the fact that newspapers just like every paper deserve recycling, however seeing them being employed as dusters, table cloth and floor mats made my heart melt.
While I disliked being a monitor or leader, the one role I took to heart was that of a newspaper monitor!
Every morning, I was responsible for bringing the newspaper to the classroom—and I never missed a day.
The count was always exact, matching the total number of students in the class.
Day in and day out, I followed this routine with army-level discipline!
No other monitor could match my legacy.
Even after being relieved of my duties, I would informally step in if my successor fell short—for her, it was a duty, but for me, it was a calling, almost a religion!
The newspaper was an omnibus for me—when reading tired me out, I’d dive into newspaper games or art.
One of my favourite games was a race with friends to find as many 'j's and 'm's as we could in a minute.
I’ll admit to flaunting, but I won every time :D
I also sketched the witty cartoons in my drawing book—caricatures of Union Ministers, offering a playful take on the country’s politics—and proudly showed them off to my teachers and parents.
My love for newspapers extended far beyond the student edition of TOI. Every Sunday, I eagerly awaited the sagacious Speaking Tree—a treasure trove of articles written by saints, life coaches, Buddhist monks, and others whose wisdom had ripened with age.
The witty tales of Mullah Nasruddin, the Akbar-Birbal battles of wit, and Zen stories were like lightbulb moments for me.
Reading about the quaint Himalayan life, life-giving herbs, and Ayurvedic remedies broadened my horizons even further.
Articles from the Mahabharata, Ramayana, and Panchatantra were the perfect blend of creativity and history. Talking animals, boon-granting demigods, and shape-shifting avatars imparting life lessons somehow stuck with me far more than coursebooks ever did.
Maybe that's why I matured mentally before my time—while the 9th-grade girls in my class were caught up in Chetan Bhagat’s Half Girlfriend and The Fault in Our Stars, my mind was on a parallel path of salvation, absorbing the deeper realities of life and death.
People often said I had the mind of an adult in the body of a child—far more sagacious than my years would suggest.
As I approach the milestone of one year shy of a quarter-century, I realize how instrumental newspapers have been in shaping my life.
Today, every news article J’adore finds a place in my phone’s notes register for preservation. It trickles in my WhatsApp Status, and IG Stories and rolls off the tongue in everyday parlance.
All the credit for my reading, writing, and English-speaking abilities belongs, subconsciously, to the newspapers.
My Instagram stories are filled with pictures of me attending unconventional events—thanks to the flyers and ads I discovered in newspapers.
My offbeat thinking and creativity have been nurtured by the editorial section, where cross-pollination of ideas from across the world fed my imagination.
Even today, in this digital age, I hoard newspapers. Somehow, those carbon-printed pages and colourful, tangible prints still hold a special place in my heart.
You can find them everywhere- my study table, over the bed, in the wardrobe, on the dining table and on and on…
For a newspaper is not merely an information-carrying booklet; it's an emotion for me!
The Sunday Times inevitably finds its way into my office bag on Monday.
A week without newspapers feels like a week without fresh air.
Every morning, I become like a child unwrapping a gift as I eagerly remove the band from my TOI copy.
Sipping hot water while taming the fluttering pages has become part of my daily routine.
Over the years, I’ve taken multiple psychological tests like MBTI, Values Inventory, and Gallup Strengths, and they all point to one core truth—my "Love of Learning."
Inquisitiveness, curiosity, love of learning, judgment, and wisdom are my top five strengths.
If today I still carry a childlike curiosity and an insatiable thirst for learning, the credit undoubtedly goes to the newspaper.
Thank you, TOI, for making me believe that this world is a wonderful and fascinating place to be in.
With every turn of the flap, you don’t know what shall come your way!
Thank you for being that ally who always filled the void in my life.
Today I may have grown into an outgoing person, but you are still my first go-to resource for comfort.
Dear Newspaper,
I wouldn’t have been who I am sans your side. Thank you for making me, me!
Yours faithfully forever,
A Fond Reader!