The dark ages – Up to my 8th class, I never realised the wonder of books. I was coaxed, requested, ordered to read books as my father’s side of the family is what I used to call them ‘book bees’, as I didn’t know the term book worm existed. This was the era when I couldn’t understand why people read books.
Enlightenment – Times change and so do people, I am known among my close friends as the person who loves books and with a set of my close friends I enjoy some wonderful conversations on books of various genres. The motivation to read books came in when my scores in English language in school were dropping and I picked my first Enid Blyton in 8th (yes, pretty late in life). I went on to discover couple of wooden boxes full of some priceless classics. Our school curriculum was fantastic and we were lucky to have Ms. Rebeiro as our English teacher who brought Shakespeare’s As you like it alive in the class, along with some excellent collection of poems from ‘Flights of Fancy’.
I was encouraged by my folks. Mom is an excellent story teller and she described one of her favourite books, Jeffrey Archer’s As the Crow Flies, to me in vivid detail. This sealed the deal and I made my transition to adult novels. I suddenly was able to relate to my paternal grandmother a lot better. We discussed David Copperfield and she gave me her copy of Anna Karenina. This was engineering and there was no turning back. I never remember travelling without a book from then on.
Present day – Marriage slowed things down with priorities creeping in, but my daughter’s arrival brought things to such a stand still which I had never imagined. It was unprecedented and I didn’t touch a book for close to a year. Sleep took a priority over other things in life.
A’s gift of a kindle brought back what my soul was craving for. And yesterday, thanks to my cousin ‘A’, I revisited my personal collection of books and realised exactly what makes me so happy.
The feeling is simply superb and I am sure all my friends who share my passion second it.