My Dadaji's trusted friend - Reader's Digest
Recently, when my father pulled out one Reader’s Digest book – Quiz Night for my one-year-old son to turn the pages and play with (since it had many colourful photos and cards), I saw Dadaji’s signature on the first page (Dadaji had this habit of signing on the first page of all his books along with the date). While my son turned the pages forward, it took me back on a nostalgic drive.
“A trusted friend in a complicated world” is the tag line of Reader’s Digest. Probably that’s what it was for my Dadaji (paternal grandfather) who was a Professor in Chemistry. Thanks to him that I was introduced to the wonderful world of Reader’s Digest.
One of my early memories of Dadaji’s house in Katihar (Bihar) is seeing my mother read the famous magazine founded by DeWitt Wallace and his wife Lila Bell Wallace. At first, I used to think that since Dadaji is a professor, he reads these, only to realize later that it had nothing to do with his subject of chemistry. In a bid to inculcate a reading habit in me, my mother would sometimes pass it on. The only things that I found interesting at the young age (ten or eleven) were the quotes and the joke section.
“Ee wala kitab bheja hai Reader’s Digest wala is baar"
With time, Dadaji’s collection organically evolved from magazines to hardbound coffee table books. On every visit, my father (an avid reader) would enthusiastically check with Dadaji about the latest addition to his treasure trove. Proudly Dadaji would say, “Ee wala kitab bheja hai Reader’s Digest wala is baar (This is the book that Reader’s Digest has sent).” Hearing this as a kid, I had thought, “Wow! Looks like Dadaji is friends with Reader’s Digest folks.”
Well, not sure about the folks, but Reader’s Digest definitely seemed to be one of his best friends. So much so that once he had refused my father from taking away the World Atlas (which was a new addition to his collection). If my memory serves me right, he had said something like, “Yahin padh lo jitna padhna hai, lekar mat jao (Read how much ever you want here, but don’t take it)”. It required an intervention by my grandmother for dad to have his way. Finally, a reluctant Dadaji had said with a smile, “Dekho le to jaa rahe ho, lekin sambhaal kar rakhna (Now that you are taking it, keep it properly).” Although, I never read it completely, but in the pre-google days, it did help me a lot in my school geography.
“Dekho le to jaa rahe ho, lekin sambhaal kar rakhna"
This incident opened the floodgates for my dad and on subsequent visits to Katihar, he would pick one collector’s edition book much against Dadaji’s wishes. At times on the promise that it would be returned on the next visit. But I don’t remember it happening ever. As they say, “Promises are meant to broken”. The only solace for Dadaji was that his books were in good condition and were being taken care of properly. With this new found confidence, sometimes he also gave books to us, like once he had given me one on computers. So, the bookshelf at our house started becoming richer with collections like – Great Mysteries of the Past, The World at Arms and many others.
With time, many more books have been added to our bookshelf. But whenever I look at the Reader's Digest collection, it does remind me of the good times spent with Dadaji. While all those books are special. But the one book which is my prized possession today is Reader’s Digest 50th Anniversary Treasury. Quite surprisingly, I had never seen it when he was around, and I had to do my own negotiation with my uncle to allow me to take it with me post Dadaji passed away. A rare book in itself, it has Dadaji’s signature (dating back to 1965) as well as my father’s name on the first page (written by my father itself).
Speaking of names and signatures, as I was fondly remembering these and telling my wife stories about it that day, my nostalgic journey was suddenly interrupted by my son who was keen on leaving his mark on our hereditary collection. But by then, I had travelled quite a bit down memory lane.
And like Jhumpa Lahiri had written, "That's the thing about books. They let you travel without moving your feet."


