I stole a book from the library during my college days. Not able to recall what exactly drove me at that time but it was silly.
I never read that book. For the first time, I felt the emotion from the book. It was upset. I never imagined my thoughtless act would shape the way I am today. I started a new relationship with books. That event changed my life.
I owe my creativity, art, inspiration and knowledge to all the books I ever read.
I am not an avid reader. But I read.
Not all the time. But most of the time.
I do like to surround myself with books. My mini-library in the corner means a lot to me. I feel their presence all the time.
I have Kindle with many ebooks, but I still prefer to read from a physical book. I love that subtle sound when I turn the page from an actual book. I love that peculiar paper smell.
Reading from an actual book feels like watching a movie in the theatre.
Today, we have a myriad of on-demand channels that flood with films and TV shows from all over the world. Just because access to everything is a few clicks away, we have lost to appreciate the value of time. It takes less time to watch a movie on Netflix, But the absolute pleasure is going out of home and watching a movie with popcorn.
I feel the same with books. Reading is essential to me, but how I read does matter.
Although I spend hours curating books on the Internet, I still prefer to go to the bookstore to buy them. It’s not just about purchasing a book. It’s how I buy it.
COVID-19 pandemic didn’t hit me mentally but ordering books online was disturbing. I feel bad when the delivery man abandons my brand new books on the floor. It is like someone has disowned the newborn child.
I haven’t read the majority of the books in my home library. However, they are more valuable than what I read.
The books I have yet to read inspire me more than the books I read.
Books’ mere presence inspires me to write. Sometimes, they make me feel insecure.
I read Q&A way before they made Oscar-winning Slumdog Millionaire. One of my colleagues borrowed, and he never returned. He lost somewhere while moving house. It was tragic. That book was unique. I can buy the same book today, but it’s still not the same book.
I often lend a few books to my friends but most never read. They return the book and don’t talk about it. It does not bother me. Instead, I look at the book. And it stares at me too.
The book looks like a toy that complains no child plays with me.
I don’t feel that bad for my friend who did not read. But I do feel bad for that book.
Like my friend, I may not have read the book, but she never complains because she is back home. She can look at me while I sip a tea from the cup or while I read. Sometimes she tells me to take a rest from the writer’s block.
I love to walk with my book in hand. I may not read, but I like to hold. It feels like walking hand in hand, together.
I was reading The Mighty Laloche to my son, who was about three years old. We were on the train. By mistake, the book slipped out of my hand behind the seat. The gap was as narrow as the thin book. I tried a lot, but it didn’t work. We had to get down at our station. I could feel pain and anger in my son’s eyes. I almost had a nightmare.
I didn’t find the same book in any bookstore. So, I ordered it online without even looking at the price. The book came within a week. My son was happy. But for me, it’s still not that book! From that purchase and episode, a new idea emerged.
I don’t let anyone borrow my books anymore. Instead, I buy for them.
It’s not out of agony, but I would love to.
I like to see how you grow a love affair not with a book’s story but with the book itself.
I would also love to read your love story with books and personal favourites.