One page at a time

There used to be a time when nothing else would exist just me and the pages of whatever book  I was reading. I swallowed books up like I had been starved, I was that hungry to read, to escape to the world in the books, to build an imagination that just envelop me for the remainder of the story and much after. I would be reading while waiting for the morning bus, I would read in between classes, during the free periods, while traveling, while on vacation, to the point that my parents had to snatch it out off my hands because it got in the way of studying and exams. It was all that I ever wanted, for every Christmas, Birthday and vacation, I wanted to be gifted books, and I would drop hints all year long about the books I wanted..Nothing excited me more than opening a

n unread book in my hand for the very first time. The first page and I was gone. You couldn’t talk to me then.

 I read all the crime novels, all the magic novels, the fantasy stuff, the fiction stuff, the biography stuff, the classic stuff, i read the conspiracy stuff, then all the vampire stuff starting with Enid Blyton ( who i thought was a man) to Alfred Hitchcock, to Jean Sasson, to Chris Ryan, to Khalid Hosseini.I used to read to sound intelligent, but more than that, reading lead me to other worlds, lead me to see how I could be better, exposed me to deep human emotion, the po

ssibilities that existed and made me appreciate imagination while expanding my own.

Somewhere along the way though books stopped moving me, in that that I lost the will to pick up a book and be excited about it. The bookstore is still my favourite place to be, along with the stationery shop, and the music shop. It just has this atmosphere that calms me down, everything just slows down and lets me just breathe. But its been a long time since I last picked up a book and it enveloped me entirely. I have more unread books than read ones, standing on my table, waiting to be opened, waiting to be explored.

But there can never be a replacement for your first loves, even though I seldom read now, the love for it has not yet died entirely. Its just a matter of time till I find books that are going to move me, make me think, make me wonder, make me laugh, make me cry, make me want to slap someone, because this is something I just don’t think is worth giving up on, and it won’t ever come to that..

Till then

To life….. One page at a time…



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