Books!!!!

There’s nothing much for me to do now that I’m home. My perpetual complain is that I’m bored. Mum gets really irritated every time I say that, so she decided the best way to keep me occupied was ‘chores”. Now household chores are one of the things about home that I do not miss. Not that I’m lazy, I just don't like it ;-) my task this morning was to clean out the bookshelf.

Now some of you may think it’s weird but I found this far more appealing than chopping veggies. Finally I get a job I don't mind doing. Why? Simple, I love books.

My love affair with books started when I was about 4 I think. Reading is more than a hobby to me; it’s something I’m totally involved in. Music and photography are still battling it out for a second place. Give me a good book and I’m totally oblivious to everything around me. Hey don't blame me, blame my parents. They’re both voracious readers and have amassed an amazing collection of books over the years. Yet both of them claim I’m the limit ;-) you could hurl all sorts of abuses at me and I wouldn’t hear a thing.

Coming back to the bookshelf, it took quite a while rearranging it according to authors and genres. The collection ranges from fiction to thrillers to self help books. You name it we’ve got it. I’ve often told mum that she might as well open up a library but let’s just say that my parents are pretty possessive about the books, after all it’s taken them years to collect and they’re proud of it. Nothing pisses them off more than someone not returning or losing one of their books.

What upsets me now is that most people I know have never experienced the joy of reading. Reading a book requires tedious effort which they feel is a waste of time. And I feel sorry for them. Because they’ll never know what it’s like to lose yourself in another world. Because their imagination is limited. And it’s not just about what you read. Books are a trip down memory lane at times. The fairy tales you read as kids, then moving on to Enid Blyton, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew until you reach Sidney Sheldon, Archer, Deaver etc. Each set reminds me of different phases of my life. I’m sure there was a time when each of us wanted to be a character we read about. I still remember mine was to be a detective, thanks to good ol’ Sherlock Holmes. It’s a pity that soo many people are missing out on this.

A lot of us still read, but the numbers seem to be dwindling. Unfortunately, even those of us who like reading barely get the time for it. I know, because it’s the same with me. For a person who used to average at least one medium sized novel per week, I now manage only about one or two per month. I’m pretty sure I’ve read somewhere around 400 books so far if you include the ones I read as a kid;-) And till date no two books I’ve read have ever been alike, that’s the beauty of it.

I still haven’t read through my parents’ collection, though of late I’m the one who’s been adding to it. That’s just temporary mind you, I intend to build my own collection but since I’m still moving all over the place, I’ve loaned them out to my parents ;-) As for reading though my parents entire collection, that’s not going to happen. Not because it’s too vast but because our tastes differ but that can’t be helped ;-)

I could go on and on about books but that might just bore you so I won’t ;-)

So, when was the last time you read a book?