We journalists live in a new age of storytelling, with many new multimedia tools. Many young people don’t even realize it’s new. For them, it’s just normal.

This hit home for me as I was sitting with my 2-year-old grandson on a sofa over the Spring Festival holiday. I had brought a children’s book to read. It had simple words and colorful pictures — a perfect match for his age.

Picture this: my grandson sitting on my lap as I hold the book in front so he can see the pictures. As I read, he reaches out and pokes (戳) the page with his finger.

What’s up with that? He just likes the pictures, I thought. Then I turned the page and continued. He poked the page even harder. I nearly dropped the book. I was confused: Is there something wrong with this kid?

Then I realized what was happening. He was actually a stranger to books. His father frequently amused the boy with a tablet computer which was loaded with colorful pictures that come alive when you poke them. He thought my storybook was like that.

Sorry, kid. This book is not part of your high-tech world. It’s an outdated, lifeless thing. An antique, like your grandfather. Well, I may be old, but I’m not hopelessly challenged, digitally speaking. I edit video and produce audio. I use mobile payment. I’ve even built websites.

There’s one notable gap in my new-media experience, however: I’ve spent little time in front of a camera, since I have a face made for radio. But that didn’t stop China Daily from asking me last week to share a personal story for a video project about the integration of Beijing, Tianjin and Hebei province.

Anyway, grandpa is now an internet star — two minutes of fame! I promise not to let it go to my head. But I will make sure my 2-year-old grandson sees it on his tablet.

I was born in Venice, one of the most popular tourist attractions in Italy, and studied designing at university here. Though I have also spent time away, I have always come back because it’s my home.

In Venice, there are no roads, only canals, so you have to get around on foot or by boat. I live on a canal in the Rialto area in a house that was built in 1588 for the Muti family, who were businessmen in the silk trade. In the mid-eighteenth century, it was home to the Vezzi family, who made things like plates and bowls in fine china and became rich by sending these around the world. These businessmen’s houses in Venice are like palaces. Their owners had to have space to show off their goods, but the building also had to be an office, a factory, a store and a home. My house came into our family in 1919, when it was bought by my grandfather. He died before I was born but he was the director of a museum where I often do research on old documents. On some of these, I’ve seen notes in his handwriting, so, in a way, I met him through these documents.

Sadly, the population of Venice has dropped from 120,000 in the 1950s to about 60,000 now. This doesn’t include the thousands of tourists who come to visit. I welcome the tourists but unless something is done to stop everyday shops like bakeries from disappearing, the city will die. I want people who love the city to come here to live and work and give Venice back a life that is not just about tourism.

In my early childhood, I was often surprised when I saw my father making a small number of money with difficulty. Being a child, I was unable to understand him. When I was older, my father started doing a part-time job at home. He used to bring some work back and work till late night.

I can’t forget he played with me when I was 3-4 years old. He taught me how to read when I was at the age of 5. He took care of me all night when I was sick. Whenever I felt down, he would cheer me up. He also cared about my lessons and often helped me get ready for examinations. Later he sent me to New Delhi for the best education. Whenever I needed money, he never refused. He always managed money for my studies.

Two years ago, I got a job at a hospital in New Delhi. When I helped my first patient, I got a strong feeling of satisfaction. When I got my first salary which was about ten times more than my pocket money, I spent it all on myself.

When I returned home one fine morning, I heard my father communicating with one neighbor. He was telling him my success in the job very proudly. He also told him that I had a higher salary than him at the end of his work. A dream, his son should become better than himself came true.

I was unable to move on my feet. Past 23 years flashed into my mind in a moment. I knew my father loved me very much. I could understand the meaning of my father’s aspirations（愿望）. I could understand the decisions my father made in the past. The financial difficulty he was facing was decided by his goal — making his child more successful than himself.

If today I am successful, this is because of my father.