Musings on books versus e-readers.
I lazily skimmed the first few pages of my digital book on my flight to Rome. The frenzied work days leading up to the departure had left my energy deflated like a flat tyre. Nevertheless, I was pleased to have packed my lightweight, handy Kindle rather than a heavy book. This saved me precious baggage space (for all the art work I planned to purchase); my e-book would also prove a faithful companion on my trip.
A few days prior, I stood atop the Dubai Frame and pensively observed ‘old’ and ‘new’ Dubai. Personally, a physical book and an e-reader represent the then and now. A book signifies the arduous, yet vital journey humankind made to reach the digital age. An e-book, on the other hand, is the torchbearer for the technological age; it is an endeavor to keep literacy alive and relevant.
My Italian holiday was replete with reading. The Kindle’s optimal size permitted me to nimbly travel with it. I read while lounging in cafés, savouring delicious Italian coffee. I staved off boredom by reading in the interminable queue for entering the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. The story’s denouement came in a timely manner – on my last evening in Venice, seated in the train station’s restaurant by the canal.
As I finished reading the story on my flight back home I felt incomplete at not being able to tangibly shut a book. I yearned to flip bound sheaves of paper rather than thumb through a digital copy. Like my holiday, the e-book was fitting and fun. But like home, a physical book serves an anchor, easing my pace as I put down a cuppa to turn a page. And home, is where the heart is.