For generations of Indian readers, the ritual of reading the newspaper was not complete without a final, quiet moment spent on a special section. Tucked away at the very back, often on the last editorial page, was a column simply and poetically known as 'The Last Page'. This was not a space for breaking news, political analysis, or stock market figures. It was, instead, a sanctuary of thought—a place for reflection, gentle wisdom, and human connection that formed the soulful conclusion to the daily digest of world events.
The Essence of the Final Column
Unlike the frantic headlines that dominated the front page, The Last Page moved at a different pace. Its content was deliberately curated to provide solace and intellectual respite. Readers could find a diverse mix of material here: short poems, insightful essays on everyday life, poignant personal anecdotes, travelogues from forgotten corners, and timeless quotes from philosophers and writers across the ages. The tone was often contemplative, sometimes humorous, and always humane.
This section served a profound psychological purpose. After absorbing the day's tales of conflict, crisis, and commerce, The Last Page offered a literary palate cleanser. It reminded readers of beauty, resilience, and the shared experiences that bind humanity together. It was the print equivalent of a deep, calming breath after a storm of information. For many, it was the most cherished part of the newspaper, a personal ritual that provided a moment of peace before stepping back into the world.
A Fading Tradition in the Digital Age
Today, this beloved tradition is facing extinction. The relentless pressure of the 24/7 news cycle, the economic challenges squeezing print media, and the shift of reader attention to digital platforms have collectively eroded the space for such quiet corners. Newspapers, fighting for relevance and revenue, are compelled to prioritize content that drives immediate clicks and eyeballs. Reflective essays that don't generate viral traffic are often deemed dispensable.
The disappearance of The Last Page signifies more than just the loss of a column; it marks the erosion of a particular reading culture. It represents a shift from deep, linear engagement to fragmented, algorithmic consumption. On social media feeds and news apps, there is no 'last page'. The content stream is endless, designed to keep users scrolling without a natural point of conclusion or reflection. The deliberate closure offered by that final column is absent, leaving the consumption experience perpetually open and often unsatisfying.
Why We Still Long for That Final Note
The nostalgia for The Last Page is not merely about resisting change. It stems from a genuine human need for narrative closure and meaningful curation. In a world saturated with raw, unfiltered information, the role of the editor as a curator of thought and feeling becomes even more critical. The Last Page was an act of editorial care—a gift from the editor to the reader, saying, "This is where we pause. This is a thought to take with you."
It also fostered a unique sense of community. Readers often connected deeply with the anonymous or pseudonymous writers of these pieces, feeling a kinship over shared sentiments. In publications like Deccan Herald, which carried the tradition for years, it became a signature element, a part of the newspaper's identity that loyal subscribers valued immensely. Its absence is felt as a loss of character and soul in the publication.
While some digital platforms and newsletters attempt to recreate this reflective space, they lack the tactile, ritualistic experience of discovering it at the end of a physical newspaper. The act of turning the page to find it was part of its charm. The question that now lingers is whether the values it embodied—reflection, depth, and curated calm—can find a new home or if they will remain a poignant relic of a bygone era of print journalism.
Ultimately, The Last Page was more than content; it was a cultural practice. It taught readers to end their news consumption not with anxiety, but with perspective. As we navigate the noisy digital present, the silence left by its departure is a powerful reminder of what we have sacrificed in the relentless pursuit of speed and scale in how we inform ourselves.
