Books
I love the smell of books. Nevermind if they’re old or new, dog-eared and dilapidated or hardly touched, to me all books are special. My deep love for reading has been with me since forever. Why do I love them so much? It’s because I was born with questions and books give me answers. Isn’t it fascinating too that the lessons they impart change over time? Well, at least the better books do. Take The Little Prince for one. It meant to me differently at 7 compared to when I was 13 or 21. Or how Lord of the Flies was scary at 10, and later on turned into the vilest version of truth at 19. That Nancy Drew was just plain nosy (and that George and Bess probably have a lesbian affair) and Encyclopedia Brown, apart from being very, very lucky, probably had a mild case of autism.
Also, books are something you work for, something you aim to understand. Not like movies or music, books demand to be earned. If you don’t get the point now then try again in a few years time, when you’ve laughed the requisite cackles and cried the requisite tears until you become the person deserving of the book’s message. Have your heart broken a little, overcome the passing of somebody very important in your life, finish school, be eaten by the dogs of the world, then maybe, just maybe, the lesson found in the (crisp or yellowing) pages (depending on how long you’ve had the book) is at last ripe for your picking.
Books and reading offer me solace from a world that has gotten used to instant gratification and pathological indecision. It takes time to finish a chapter. And the story has progression, from the intro, to the mounting tension, to the climax, the deneoument, and then the resolution. Sometimes I mark the book after finishing a few pages, and months later come back to it. The story is still there, still waiting for my appreciation and opinion. How very enriching.
"Do not judge a book by it’s cover." Literally and metphorically it is true. Opening a book is like opening a gate to an alternate universe for me. And each person I meet is a book. The good ones always teach me something, and the worthwhile ones demand hard work. People like books are earned. Deserved. Luckily my love for reading has taught me to ride the ebb and flow of every adventure that is every person I meet. I’m not perfect in reading persons though. But then neither am I at reading books. Perhaps there is no perfect techinique. The point is to learn. Not every book ends the way you hope it would. Not every person allows you in his life. Some people are novels, staying with you from start to finish, while others short stories, their presence brightens and then dims in one fleeting instant. But all of them, books and people, if they have found a way into your life, can ultimately shape you towards the resolution of your personal story. Let them.
