In Affair With Books!
I don’t know why and how I fell in love with the yellow pages smeared with stories waiting to be heard. Was it right from my childhood when I was too young to read and write? Was it because my naive mind was oblivious to the ways of the world? Was it because I have been a person terrible at talking? Was it because I am a person who wishes to be heard but just couldn’t muster enough strength to put her words forth? Was it because I might appear strong and tough but deep inside I am fragile – too weak to be broken repeatedly and hence, resorted to books? I don’t know what was it that made books my friends but after this while, all I can say is that they have been my most reliable companions.
They don’t speak and yet they do. They sing to me the lullabies, the melodious folklore, the relaxing symphonies and paint the picture so vivid right in front of my eyes. They don’t demand from me to speak and yet they listen to all the silent screams. They are constantly with me in my battles. They are always with me in my times of trouble. They stand beside my meek self in times of inevitable struggle.
They will never ask me to behave in a certain manner. They won’t judge. In fact, they present themselves to me and then let me decide whether I would want to choose. They make me prudent, they make me better, they make me patient, they make me calm and learn endurance. They make me more Human!
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