Life Before the Digital Age: A Nostalgic Look at the 80s and 90s
Imagine it’s 1985, and you’re rushing home—not to scroll through your phone, but to catch that one TV show you’ve been waiting for all week. The television (TV), a bulky box in the living room, is the family’s pride. If it’s in color, you’re living large. Going out meant true freedom—no one could track you, no texts or calls. Plans were made and trusted. If your friend didn’t show up, you figured it out and found a new adventure. Welcome to the 80s and 90s, when life was about creativity, patience, and real, face-to-face connections, long before the internet rewired the world.
TV wasn’t a personal experience but a shared, family event. With only a handful of channels, watching TV felt like a special occasion. If a new movie was on or your favorite cartoon was airing, it became the highlight of the week. Without streaming services or on-demand options, you watched shows live, making every episode feel precious. Miss one? You had to wait for a rerun—if you were lucky! Back then, it was often the youngest child who had the honor of flipping channels, standing up close to the screen.
Books were our true escape. Physical books were cherished, from adventure-filled mysteries to colorful comics like Tintin and Asterix. There was nothing quite like getting lost in a good story or swapping a book with a friend after you finished it. Tintin wasn’t just a comic character; he was a shared cultural phenomenon, and kids would trade and treasure those stories as if they were gold. Kids’ magazines, too, were a huge hit. With each issue of Tinkle, Highlights, or Mad, we’d dive into new worlds, puzzles, and jokes, sparking our imaginations and keeping us busy for hours. While today’s Kindle can hold thousands of books, there’s something irreplaceable about the feeling of flipping through real pages and the wear and tear that shows how much a book has been loved.
We didn’t have smart speakers like Alexa or Siri to play our favorite songs on command. Instead, we gathered around the radio or spun records on a turntable, eagerly waiting for our favorite songs to come on. There was something magical about hearing that crackle as the needle hit the vinyl, transforming the room into a concert hall. Music was a shared experience, and mixtapes became treasured gifts, filled with the perfect combination of tracks for every occasion.
Making plans was simple but required commitment. If you wanted to meet a friend, you called them on a landline and set a time and place. When you were out, you were really out—no pressure to answer texts, no notifications pulling you back to your phone. It was just you and the world around you. A simple cycle ride was all anyone needed for pure joy. Pedaling through the neighborhood with the wind in your face, not caring about social media validation—it was freedom in its purest form. The world felt bigger, more exciting, and full of adventure.
Back then, owning a car or color TV felt like a luxury. Not everyone had them, and when they did, they were cherished. Public transport, walking, or biking was the norm, yet we didn’t see these as hardships. Today, kids have luxuries we couldn’t imagine—smartphones, endless entertainment at their fingertips, the ability to connect with anyone, anywhere. But with all this convenience comes a certain distance from the magic we felt. The excitement of waiting for a new episode, the thrill of discovering a new book at the library, the joy of just being without the pressure of online personas—those things feel lost in today’s world of instant gratification.
Growing up without mobile phones, social media, or the internet taught us something invaluable: patience, creativity, and real human connection. Of course, the world today offers incredible conveniences, and it’s amazing how far we’ve come. But there’s something special about the simplicity of the past that’s worth remembering. In the end, the greatest luxury wasn’t the technology we didn’t have; it was the freedom to be fully present, whether with friends, family, or on a solo adventure. Sometimes, in today’s fast-paced world, I find myself longing for those simple, magical moments when life was about the ride, not the destination—or the likes.
–Bidisha Ghosh, content writer, mother of twins, avid reader, and passionate baker.
