I have always loved books. I grew up surrounded by them — their feel, their texture, their unmistakable scent, both old and new. The smell of printed pages still intoxicates and comforts me. Books have always been my loyal friends — companions through happiness, sorrow, and solitude.

There is an unmatched magic in curling up by a crackling fire with a leather-bound classic, or lounging on a sun-drenched beach or in a cozy hill station with a dog-eared paperback. The simple joy of turning pages, underlining favorite lines, or slipping in a bookmark has a charm that technology can never quite recreate.

Then came the age of Kindle and E-books, opening a new digital world for readers everywhere. No doubt, they’ve made reading more accessible and portable than ever before. You can carry an entire library in your bag — hundreds of books, all in one slim device. Buying a new book takes only seconds, and classics often come free. With adjustable fonts, text sizes, and backlighting, reading has become easier on the eyes and lighter on the luggage.

Yet, something about it feels… different. While Kindle brings convenience, it sometimes steals the intimacy. The tactile pleasure of holding a book, the rustle of pages, even the tiny imperfections — these are irreplaceable. A Kindle doesn’t age with you. A real book does — it bears the creases, stains, and memories of the moments you shared.

Another quiet loss is the joy of bookstores — that beautiful experience of browsing through aisles, discovering unexpected treasures, and running your fingers over covers until one calls out to you. You can’t really “gift” or “lend” an e-book the way you pass on a well-loved novel to a friend. And though Kindle makes reading easier, it also relies on a charged battery and Wi-Fi — something a book will never ask for.

In the end, I believe reading a real book is simply “nicer.” A book feels alive — you can hold it, hug it, even fall asleep beside it. It can sit on your shelf like an old, loyal friend waiting for your return.

So while I appreciate the practicality of my Kindle, my heart still belongs to the printed page. For me, the world of traditional books will never fade away. They are timeless, tangible, and forever part of who I am — and no screen can ever replace that.