In an age where digital content reigns supreme, and ebooks and PDFs have become the new normal for readers worldwide, there’s something about a physical, printed book that still holds a special place in my heart. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m unapologetically smitten with the tangible experience of flipping through the pages of a well-bound book.
There’s a certain sensory delight in holding a printed book that can’t be found in its digital counterparts. The weight of the book in your hands, the texture of the pages, the sound of paper rustling as you turn them, and especially the distinct smell of a new or old book—all these contribute to a multi-sensory journey that truly immerses you in the world of literature. Books are more than just vessels for information; they are art in their own right. From the beautifully designed covers to the carefully chosen fonts and layout, every aspect of a printed book’s aesthetics is a testament to the craftsmanship of bookmakers.
All these magnificent libraries around the world are testaments to the enduring allure of physical books. Can we make The Library of El Escorial with ebooks? No. While ebooks and PDFs have their own set of advantages, and I do appreciate the convenience of carrying an entire library on a single device, the charm of printed books still remains undeniable.
Also, there’s a sense of nostalgia that comes with reading a physical book. My first proper reading experience was Chander Pahar by Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay, and I distinctly remember the feeling—the feeling of being old enough to read by myself. I remember turning the pages in a way that my father would hear it just to make him understand that I was finally a grownup. Well, the next day, I got lost following the stray Kaalu, so the effort of the previous night was all in vain. Holding a book evokes all these memories that a PDF will never do.
Even the physical appearance of a book tells a story—a stain here, a crack there, dogeared pages, notes, underlines, comments, all these talk about the reading journey of the owners. This is why lending or borrowing a printed book is special. There’s a personal connection in handing someone a book that has meant something to you, knowing they will experience it in their own way. And when you get it back, you will learn a little bit more about that person.
Printed books never run out of battery, require charging, or face compatibility issues. They are always ready for reading, ready to be your companion. So, in a world where the digital is ever-expanding, I still find solace in the gentle rustling of pages and the scent of ink and paper, reminding me that the era of printed books is very much alive.