A Loyalty Never Forgotten

I have never forgotten what it feels like to smell the pages of a new book and as a child I always associated it with the smell of Ma's freshly baked cakes. It was a smell which used to set my pulse and imagination running wild with glee at the thought of joyful reading and complete mesmerizing journey that lay ahead. It is an enchanted smell which has remained with me till date and has never rendered me alone, providing companionship in times most needed with written and blank pages alike.

It is a wonderful sojourn like no other, to lose myself completely in the pages and words ensuing. To be able to live another life for even a few moments and forget the reality surrounding me that was sometimes grim is something which I have enjoyed since childhood. A deep sense of bonding was what I felt when I read a book that reflected an inner conflict or a deep seeded dream. Those dreams which remained in the depths of my soul waiting patiently, trying to find a footing, a voice in this world which seemed harsh and judgemental.

Solitude dreams.

Solitude dreams because I associated noone with them not even the people close to me. Dreams where I was in a place unlike the reality surrounding us, a place where I find tranquility; and that tranquility I sought in solitude. A solitude in which my companion gave silence to the surroundings but the much needed action to my imagination. That companion who gave me varying situations to face, kingdoms to conquer, worlds with people to save, to savour the grace of royalty or bask in the glory of beauty.

My habits have stemmed from some incident and the habit of reading has been no different, stemming from the habit of trying to cope up with sudden loneliness. A loneliness which crept into my life inspite of being in my own state, surrounded by people who spoke my language and yet isolated me for difference in dialect. Though it is an incident which took place more than a decade ago but sighting of a similar discrimination angers me, not only because it is taking place against a person who rarely fights back but also because the perpetrators are stupidly ignorant enough to never realise the repercussions of their actions on the victim as well as their own life. I believe that 'every action has an equal and opposite reaction', so no matter what you do related on unrelated to your life it does make an impact somewhere on this planet or lets say the universe per se; also that there are two infinite things, those being the universe and human stupidity. Of the universe Im not quite sure but of human stupidity I have absolutely no doubt.

A stupidity which refuses to see the brighter side of life though it believes in having a hedonistic approach towards life. Now thats what I perceive as the depth of human stupidity or should I say shallowness?

A shallowness which has in turn stemmed from the attitude of groupism. Agreed that man is a social animal, noone says that groupism is bad but to an extent where it hurts noone including the ones surviving on its fringes. But as the usual goes, when one door closes another opens.

Man is a social animal with definitely many exceptions.

Exceptions who choose inanimate books to bond with rather than humans who choose to discriminate against their own kind; and it is a bond which lasts a lifetime.

A bond which remains with you no matter which corner of the world you are in. A bond which fulfills the need for silence and action at the same time. A bond which transcends colour, creed and even age. A bond which corroborates the statement that 'it is never too late'.

It is never too late to establish this bond between the book and its reader, never too late to cherish the wonderful moments described, never too late to experience the thrill of voyages and the terror of battles lost & won.

As Ernest Hemingway had once said, 'There is no friend as loyal as a book'.