A veteran librarian of 94 summers, I have had free access to books and newspapers. I was exposed to the broadsheet Manchester Guardian from 1953, when I took charge of a college library.
I was always the first to read the Guardian Weekly in the library and since I was a teacher-librarian with a speciality in international relations, the Guardian was at hand to update me week after week.
I was always unable to afford a subscription. At the fag end of the last century when I was to finally retire after my last assignment at the Karachi Grammar School, a colonial institute established in 1847, the teachers of the collegiate section thoughtfully presented me with a year’s gift subscription to let me indulge in my addictive reading hobby. Now in retirement, I bask in my son’s well-intentioned annual birthday gift.
I start reading from the back and hasten to the Notes & Queries for lively answers full of subtle humour. I invariably check the book reviews for your selections.
Every Tuesday evening I avidly await the call of the delivery man to bring the latest copy for week-long reading. It adds significantly to the quality of a lonesome nonagenarian’s life, and I hang on to each one till I get the next one. I shall always look forward to the warmth of the printed format, as opposed to reading it on an electronic device.
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