I was a bookworm. I’d chew books at a rate faster than my parents wanted or liked. Mom prayed I wouldn’t get myopic and dad was worried I wasn’t working on the grades. The smell of paper was a holy experience. As holy as a child’s mind could get. Any written material was meant to be read, savored and digested. Alphabets were little soldiers of a crusade I led into my dreams. An escape from boring and occasionally difficult life events.
..and then adulthood and life happened. Chubby cheeks, toothless grins, diapers, mashed foods, ear infections, fights, travel, weight gains and losses, heel spurs, shifting homes across the Atlantic, and all I could hope to read were fat books that left nothing to imagination. Then again 4 years ago, I re-discovered books as something within me growing [literally and figuratively] and nagged at a lost happiness. To regain it, I made a valiant attempt as I’d tuck the kids in and read into the nights as my bulging belly and a sore back didn’t leave me much rest. Pain relief with such a nice side-effect, I was recommending it to all who’d care to listen. The cycle repeated and I had to let go. Again.
Once again, over the past months as I struggle to regain a balance in my harried life, I have turned again towards my first love. As with ex-lovers, re-establishing connections is awkward and wary. Fortunately, books don’t have any feelings apart from what we mirror into them. So, I have started to read again and just enjoy the pleasure of it more than wanting to gain anything beyond fleeting happiness up until the last page. I know there will come a time when I can look beyond mere words, and read what the spaces between the words also speak to me. I am in no rush.
I plan on writing my views on each book as I read them. Not one to critique as I do not have the experience, knowledge or the chutzpah to even begin to consider am worthy of such lofty ideas, the posts below would be just that. My own views. I hope to read a book in 2 weeks, some would take longer and some lesser, and I plan on making a post on each. The least it would do is to get me to focus on my writing.
- Palace of Illusions, by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. – February 25th 2008
- Monsoon Diary by Shoba Narayan – March 10th 2008
- Life on the Refrigerator Door by Alice Kuipers – March 16th 2008
- Tamarind Woman by Anita Rau Badami – June 13 2008
- Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden – June 26 2008
- The Book Thief by Markus Zusak – Sep 29 2008
- Interpreter of maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri – Oct 8 2008
- Brida by Paulo Coelho – Dec 12th 2008