BOOKS – A World of Their Own

This post is written by Novemberschild who is very passionate about reading and writing. For her, technology and gadgets are simply sexy and tempting. She likes to realax with a cup of hot chocolate reading a great book or watching movies. She is a certified homebody when the moment calls for it but at the same time she loves to get out and explore from time to time. And not to miss out, she is genuinely a fun person and very friendly. You can reach her on her blog www.thewhitescape.wordpress.com or on twitter @romspeaks.  

I hope you all enjoy this write-up. 

Books are my best friends. They are always sitting where I last left them waiting me to pick them up. When I want to be alone in a room full of people they provide me a secret getaway. They can make me smile even when I have had the saddest kind of day. They share their story with me, slowly but surely pulling me out of my own world into their own. A book titillates me with its unexpected twists and turns. It is a roller-coaster ride that the author takes me on. With every page, I am sucked into the make believe world of the author. I am no longer myself. I begin to see myself as the character in the book. I live his or her life. Books compel me to get out of my skin and into the skin of the different characters in them. I share the character’s triumphs – his joys, his defeats.

Despite coming home to an empty house, when I was in primary school, I was never lonely. That is because my house was always full of my friends – my books. They were a magic world all my own just at the turn of a page. My first book was the seemingly ordinary Champak which was a monthly children’s magazine that was eagerly awaited. Next entered, Tinkle in my life. Comics played a huge part in developing a reading habit in me, and how could it not? The world in these comics is so rich, diverse and funny that it’s a pity some kids don’t know about these magazines/books. I loved its routine characters like Suppandi, Shikari Shambhu, Kaalia the crow, Tantri the Mantri, Ramu Shyamu and I know there have been a few additions here and there, but for me Tinkle will always remain special because of these iconic characters. Champak and Tinkle (I am so glad they are still around for the new generation of children who are drawn to reading) still reminds me of my childhood and those carefree, fun-filled days when I had all the fun in the world.

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I used to spend my summer vacations with Noddy, Golliwogs and Enid Blyton. The Faraway tree was one of my favourite holiday books to read. I read the book in the day and during the night dreamed that the Neem tree behind my house was the Faraway tree. In my dreams I climbed the tree to reach the magic land. These pictures are so vivid in my mind even today that often I can taste the Faraway tree’s magic toffees that grow in my mouth. Growing up there were Famous Five, Secret Seven, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys.

The orphaned boy, the wizard character Harry Potter did not mesmerize me but I did made many unenthusiastic non-readers enter the magic world of books. But I like the fact the singular credit of pulling children away from their game stations goes to Harry Potter which happens to be a book. I am happy few children found this book to be spellbinding. The moral lessons in these books could not be more unmistakable. The authors with their enigmatically drawn characters draws me and everyone into the magic web with their wonderful yarn which is tightly plotted and fast paced like the readers are today.

As I grew, my books grew and from comics and young adult, I turned into an experimental reader. I enjoy reading fiction and non-fiction with the same interest. My library tells me I'm way over balanced on both types. I know one thing, as I've gotten older, I've become less interested in made up stories and more interested in how the world works, if such a thing can even be captured in books.

Till the split second I die, I will be encircled by books. I feel I don’t need a reason to read. It is a whole world always open for me. What really troubles me is the fact that in this day and age no one gives literature the importance it justifies. I have always relished reading and enjoyed all my language classes (English, Hindi and Sanskrit) at school and college.  

I read every day and there is always a book beside me, I can’t sleep without reading. When I read I sit on the bed cross-legged with my book balanced on a pillow or else sit by my big window on my chair – just the calmness of the night and my book. I take good care of books; more or less I feel they have a life of their own. Even a small bend of the cover makes me real annoyed. There aren't many people in my family (except my parents and me who are book worms) who go on reading like I do.

My mother has been gifting me books since I was a kid and she sometimes gifts even now. What makes my mother happy is despite being dug deep into these books, I had never put my studies at risk. I am called 'Shakespeare' within the family circle as they always find book(s) in my bag though I am not anywhere that superior, but I want to read all the books I can before my last breath.

If you have not started reading yet it is never too late. There is no right time or wrong time to get started. Just pick up a book that you like and let the book work its magic on you.