When it debuted in Mumbai, on a monsoon-pregnant
day of 2005, I wanted to grab the first copy and retain it as a symbol of my fascination.
Prior to that I had to heavily rely on those who traveled between Mumbai and
Delhi regularly; requesting them to carry along a copy of it and make it
available to me for a mouthful of reading. Thereafter during my innumerable
trips to Delhi, I never missed the chance of carrying a copy back home.
The arrival of Hindustan Times
(HT) in Mumbai seemed like a fresh breath of journalistic air in the clutter
endorsed culture of The Times of India and DNA. Every edition of HT came well
packaged with its own set of cliché defying reportage. What was more striking
was the absence of advertisement deluge in the newspaper. Being from an
advertising background, I do understand the value, every media house attaches
with ad releases. But then the noise was too less, with regards to HT. It
appeared like a newspaper, which I definitely wanted to wake up to read every
day.
Since reading HT was full of
pleasure, I opted for a marathon subscription of almost five or seven years in
a row, which finally ended on March 17, 2015. But I am relieved by the breakup.
HT’s personality had changed, ever since I renewed the subscription, two years
back. It was an unwilling move on my behalf; had it not been for the humble
sales guy who came pleading at my doorstep, I had made up my mind to strangulate
the relationship.
The ties had started weakening from
the time HT decided to discontinue supplying THE BRUNCH (a special supplement with
Sunday edition), beyond the city limits of Thane. Was it then our fault to be
residents of a destination, roughly 36 kilometers away from the central suburb
of Mumbai! Then too my friend Prashant and I continued revering the internet
edition. In fact I have still retained some of its old printed versions, which carries
my name in the letters section. The issues of THE BRUNCH were fresh, awe
inspiring and indulging.
But good times don’t last for
long. I won’t say I am, in particular, angry with HT alone. But I am definitely
annoyed by the repetitive style of reporting issues of all newspapers, which
disturb our mornings, spoil our afternoons and leave us feeling anxious during
nights. Incidents definitely are to be reported. But the language is strictly
uncourteous. Secondly the heinous typo errors in the print as well as e-version
kept putting my mind off. Sometimes names, places, events and personalities
were misrepresented or misprinted. Finally when the subscription manager of our
area called to ask, if I am ready to upgrade my renewal further, I straight
away put down the request. This time I was in no mood to heed to their humility
or honesty. I knew I had lost interest in HT.
This might seem like an end of
the road for my experience of newspaper reading. Well not exactly. I am already
hooked to HT Mint Lounge series, published on every Saturday. And I am
gradually mending my mind to adapt to the journalistic mannerisms of THE INDIAN
EXPRESS. Secondly I have for a long time stayed away from magazine reading.
Maybe I will catch up with a couple of them. Apart from everything else, there
is always the good company of books I enjoy.
I am not trying to build a negative
opinion against HT, which still continues to be one of my favorites. But I
clearly remember the day, I chose to not continue being its fan for a long
time. On the third or fifth page of the edition, I came across a filthy ad.
This advertisement was of someone wishing birthday to a wealthy chap. I believe
that was the last nail, to pierce the abyss of the coffin.
Today HT and I are no more on
reading terms. The only link between us is the HT Mint Lounge, which comes my
way, every Saturday. I am not repenting over this disassociation. Instead, I am
moving ahead to a better world of reading the ones, I haven’t tried till now.
Maybe it is high time that my collection starts comprising TIME, The New Yorker
and The Economist for a change.
The end of a relationship is
actually the beginning of a brand new relationship. It also marks the
commencement of happy reading, twice upon a time with reloaded energy.
-vociferous
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