The pleasure of reading a Book

It is 11:30 am and most of my household chores are over. K~ is expected to come back from school in another 2 hours from now.

OK, let me read something light .... "Paromita" by Sumathi Sudhakar seems good. A little green 70 paged book .... plot belongs to the 19th century in a sleepy village of West Bengal where a little girl rebels against a society that seeks her blind submission. Good read, I guess !

I dust the white plastic chair and place it in the warm sunlight beside the sitting room door. Ummmm .... I think I will need a foot rest too .... so, here is a wooden stool to perch my legs up while reading.

So ... Page 1, Preface ....

Something is still missing .... Aha! A bowl of Haldiram's Aloo bhujiya .... let me help myself. The book is in my right hand and the bhujia bowl on my left, the contents of which I lap with my tongue every now and then, breaking all rules of civilised human behaviour where one is supposed to use a spoon or at least fingers while eating. But, I prefer the feline behaviour over human and very soon lick the bhujia bowl clean.

I lose myself to this book .... deeper and deeper and I am lost!!!!!!!!!

I am Paromita now. I am living her life, smiles and struggles. I cease to be the true Me and so do all My true troubles and happiness.

Sheer Bliss!!!

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Talk about the pleasures of reading a book! I fondly recall my childhood when I would spend hours on reading story books. I howled in tears when atrocities were performed on Uncle Tom in the book "Uncle Tom's Cabin", I bit my nails each time when Nancy Drew, Poirot and The Famous Five were at the peak of solving a mystery and would laugh madly while reading "Eleven Stories for Boys and Girls". I also remember choking in tears while reading "Autobiography of a Yogi" by Paramahansa Yoganand ji where he has described his first experience of Super Consciousness through a beautiful poem getting enticed into the idea of becoming a nun at the YSS. Ah! The innocent childhood days. My mind would take me into an entirely different world.

My mother used to be worried for me and my future. She would keep coaxing me into studying my school books but my heart would still lie in stories and poems and almost all copies ... Maths, History, Geography .... all had a few lines composed by me scribbled at the back. I would get lost into my very own fantasy world even while listening to Math, Physics, History lectures at school ... trying to rhyme lines, imagine story plots and relishing a few thoughts from the last book I read a day before. Who cares about a boring lecture on Inorganic Chemistry .... will study on my own when exams would knock .... not right now! LOL

Books indeed influenced my childhood and early teens before I left home in 1995, after which I simply lost touch with reading. A maddening job schedule, family and raising a kid affected my time and interest to read books.

I have recently re-discovered relishing books and I promise I shall never lose sight of it this time.

Missed you, my dear friend!