Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

One of my favourite habits as a young teenager before afternoon school session started was to lounge around the house in the morning reading the newspapers over breakfast.

We used to have the New Straits Times (NST) delivered daily to our doorstep. It was the more serious of the available newspapers in Malaysia, kind of like The Age or The Australian, and about the same layout and size.

There is something nostalgic about the feel of the newspaper spread in your hands - the rustling noise as you turn the pages or fold it over your lap, the way your thumbs darken by the ink rubbing off on your hands and, of course, that oh-so-satisfying crackling noise it makes as you snap-straighten the paper.

Reading the newspapers was a habit we picked up from Dad. It was a morning ritual for him - Dad in his wheelchair, newspaper in hand, breakfast at arms' length. He would always be reading the main news while we picked up the lifestyle and sports sections.

One day, out of nowhere, Dad made this stunning observation of our newspaper reading habits.

'You boys ah! Only read comics and stories about people being raped or sex stories only! Read something else lah!'

I glanced up slowly from my newspaper with a disinterested Yeah, whatever, Da-a-ad look but deep down I was like Shit! He's got us figured out! Quick! Read something important like, uh, the financial news!

I must say it was a scarily accurate description about what we were actually reading in the newspapers, but hey, what would you expect from an apathetic teenager whose only concern were his raging hormones and his second childhood?

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The comics were the only reasons for newspapers to exist, as far as we were concerned. Sometimes I wish we could just throw away the rest of the newspaper, or that it was just one big comic newspaper.

I had a peculiar habit when it came to reading my comics. After familiarising myself with the comics in the NST through the years, I would always read what I thought were the less-funny comics first and saving the funny ones for the last. So my eyes would travel in a rehearsed way, first over Peanuts, Ferd'nand,  Blondie, Bringing Up Father and a few others, before finishing up with Baby Blues and The World of Lily Wong.

Sunday was always our favourite newspaper day because it meant an entire pull-out of comics - all in colour! Luxury!

We switched over to The Star a few years ago, a more compact, easy read (think Herald Sun, but classier) and I think they have a better collection of comics, epitomised by the one I will always save for last:

Random Memories: Twenty Two Years Old

I remember distinctly the trip to the hospital for the MRI – I was sitting outside the MRI room, and all my personal belongings which would interfere with the functioning of the MRI machine were taken away from me (apart from my magnetic personality).

The waiting area for the MRI had all the cheer of your typical hospital – immaculately white walls, the token potted plant (which had the effect of brightening up the place like a weed in a graveyard), and the severely expired magazines which sat on the single table next to the mass of waiting chairs.

One warm soul however, had brought an item of hope into that reading table – there was a scrapbook filled with the eternally optimistic comic Rose is Rose cut out from the weekend editions of the local newspaper.

It looked to be a labour of love, as it must have taken someone months to years of patience to compile it and to leave this little gesture in the hospital to cheer the hearts of worried patients.

I read it with a thankful heart, discovering love and hope in this time of uncertainty.