Reader's Digest. It was the ultimate reading delight while I was growing up. Like the Holy Grail of grown-up-ism that one wanted to achieve in their teens. A monthly magazine subscription with MY name on it!! And one that arrives in a very 'official' looking envelope - that was possibly the only mail I received in that age.
An RD issue - coming at a princely price of 38 rupees (subscription price, 42 rupees - stall price) was indeed a luxury for middle class families when I was in school. Silly how time changes quickly and one doesn't even bat an eyelid while ordering a veg burger in college canteen at a price twice that.
But RD was good education and every good education comes at a heavy price - and so my parents spent hundreds on year-on-year subscriptions on what they thought was a wise investment for their bibliophile daughter. Little wonder, to this date, I have never thrown away any issue of RD (firsthand or other-wise) that I ever laid my hands on. It is a treasured possession in my book-shelf sitting proudly next to other literary classics.
RD opened up a whole new world and culture that was quite alien initially but welcoming nevertheless. If Enid Blyton took me to English countrysides with picnic baskets in hand and having tea and scones on lazy summer holidays...RD brought along a pragmatic outlook of the out-spoken American lifestyle.
It was quite dizzying initially - there was crime, suspense, love stories, life crises and day-to-day humour. What made RD different, was the fact that all was very REAL! Nothing was left to imagination - those were stories that had happened to real people just like me - only sitting on the other side of the world. Also the fact that RD wasn't a children's magazine but one for a mature audience meant that it wasn't a watered down, over-simplified version of life stories.
To say that I wasn't up for a lot of rude shocks while reading RD would be an understatement. Especially the medical crises section - there was always this one story on a victim of a grave medical problem and his/her battle to stay alive. I still remember so many of them and especially unforgettable is Lee's Story. I still remember crying myself to bed that night on reading the story was a boy named Lee who was suffering from cystic fibrosis. His battle for a normal life against the fatal congenital condition gave me the glimpse of real life heroes at a very early age. What made it all the more poignant was the fact that the story was written by his mother. I guess I was in 7th std then and spent a sleepless week accepting the fragility of life.
I don't really remember when and how, but I stopped reading RD's. In a hurry to grow up I somehow forgot the one thing that really made me grow up. Today after all these years, I found the October issue of RD in a colleague's hand. Even without me asking for it, he offered me the copy. I guess the joy of meeting an old friend showed a bit too much on my face. But it felt like the friend had changed....45 advertisements in 180 pages!! Infact I stopped counting after 45 and there were still more to go. With dwindling readership, one can imagine the kind of firefighting that even a good content needs to put up to survive in print media these days...the media management major in me understands that. But a little girl whose first ever glimpses of real world around her were through the windows of Reader's Digest feels like shedding a tear.
I don't think one can quite put into words the relationship one shares with a good book. Great memories. Amazing life lessons. Learnings that go a long way into shaping the very you. How do ever say 'thank you' to a teacher like that? How do we share this feeling of gratitude towards perhaps one the best teachers in the world - a humble book? May be the answer lies in treasuring those lessons all your life and revisiting that old teacher that sits snugly on the book shelf, time and again. After all every teacher loves a student dropping by, once in a while, for a visit...
I don't think one can quite put into words the relationship one shares with a good book. Great memories. Amazing life lessons. Learnings that go a long way into shaping the very you. How do ever say 'thank you' to a teacher like that? How do we share this feeling of gratitude towards perhaps one the best teachers in the world - a humble book? May be the answer lies in treasuring those lessons all your life and revisiting that old teacher that sits snugly on the book shelf, time and again. After all every teacher loves a student dropping by, once in a while, for a visit...
