There is truly NOTHING like the smell of papier that gets me all happy and charged up. I attribute this to many hours spent in "lending libraries" of yore with their peeling, yellowing books and that peculiar musty smell that I still associate with books. These libraries were my safe haven during summer months from the Madras heat and all manner of trouble plaguing the teen mind.
I have my dear amma to thank for this particular gift. She is seldom without a book in her hand...be it either English or Tamizh. She opened the doors for what will be a lifelong love for all kinds of books with a special attachment to the fictional kind. Many Enid Blytons, Nancy Drews, Hardy Boys, Agatha Christies, Sherlock Holmes mysteries, P.G Wodehouses, abridged Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Louisa May Alcott, Jane Austen, R.L Stevenson, and Baroness Orczy novels followed and I was officially hooked. Many hours were spent in commiserating, rejoicing with or participating in the many adventures of the protagonist(s)....there never was a dull moment. Poetry found way into my reading list and Blake, Frost, Tennyson, Coleridge, Shelley all weaved magic into my life. How can I forget the short stories? Dahl, Asimov, Chekov, Shaw, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Greene, Hemmingway, Kipling, Hawthorne, Twain, Saki all proved to be wonderful companions.
When a book was not age appropriate, amma used to give me a gist of the story in such a colorful fashion that I was in raptures. Two other family members deserve special mention in this category...my amma's oldest sister and youngest brother, both avid readers and both patient with children. I still remember with vivid clarity the day that my mama told me the story of "If Tomorrow Comes" by Sidney Sheldon. I was enthralled and to this day, Tracy Whitney is one of my favorite protagonists.
The annual book fair at Chennai enjoyed pilgrimage status in my family. We used to wait fervently for the date and leave early for the fair on the day of. A long bus ride later, the scouting would begin for good books. Always on the lookout for a good bargain, amma used to pick and choose from piles of books and comics at the fair. Once home, comics were sent out for binding and only after they were bound, was I allowed to read them. I was always taught to care for books. Even today, I physically cringe at abuse directed towards books.
Also unforgettable are the many long train journeys that my family took, all of which auspiciously began with a visit to the Higginbotham's kiosk in the departure station. Once a book was bought, I would open the pages, take a deep sniff and settle down in my berth to read. Between the exotic sights and sounds that accompany a train ride and the book in my hand, the journey of 2/3 days would pass in a jiffy. If I close my eyes and take a sniff out of a brand new book today, I can relive those train journeys in an instant. Pure bliss!
I have my dear amma to thank for this particular gift. She is seldom without a book in her hand...be it either English or Tamizh. She opened the doors for what will be a lifelong love for all kinds of books with a special attachment to the fictional kind. Many Enid Blytons, Nancy Drews, Hardy Boys, Agatha Christies, Sherlock Holmes mysteries, P.G Wodehouses, abridged Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Louisa May Alcott, Jane Austen, R.L Stevenson, and Baroness Orczy novels followed and I was officially hooked. Many hours were spent in commiserating, rejoicing with or participating in the many adventures of the protagonist(s)....there never was a dull moment. Poetry found way into my reading list and Blake, Frost, Tennyson, Coleridge, Shelley all weaved magic into my life. How can I forget the short stories? Dahl, Asimov, Chekov, Shaw, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Greene, Hemmingway, Kipling, Hawthorne, Twain, Saki all proved to be wonderful companions.
When a book was not age appropriate, amma used to give me a gist of the story in such a colorful fashion that I was in raptures. Two other family members deserve special mention in this category...my amma's oldest sister and youngest brother, both avid readers and both patient with children. I still remember with vivid clarity the day that my mama told me the story of "If Tomorrow Comes" by Sidney Sheldon. I was enthralled and to this day, Tracy Whitney is one of my favorite protagonists.
The annual book fair at Chennai enjoyed pilgrimage status in my family. We used to wait fervently for the date and leave early for the fair on the day of. A long bus ride later, the scouting would begin for good books. Always on the lookout for a good bargain, amma used to pick and choose from piles of books and comics at the fair. Once home, comics were sent out for binding and only after they were bound, was I allowed to read them. I was always taught to care for books. Even today, I physically cringe at abuse directed towards books.
Also unforgettable are the many long train journeys that my family took, all of which auspiciously began with a visit to the Higginbotham's kiosk in the departure station. Once a book was bought, I would open the pages, take a deep sniff and settle down in my berth to read. Between the exotic sights and sounds that accompany a train ride and the book in my hand, the journey of 2/3 days would pass in a jiffy. If I close my eyes and take a sniff out of a brand new book today, I can relive those train journeys in an instant. Pure bliss!
Indeed book reading is a pleasure. Though siblings we are, my reading habit picked up only recently. May not be an avid reader, however agree to the "bliss" one finds while and after reading. After hearing you and amma rave about "IF Tomorrow Comes" I finally read it and haven't come across another Tracy Whitney until today.
ReplyDeleteNow reading "Shopaholics Anonymous" - I haven't heard of this author, however the book is worth reading.
Will definitely check it out. Thanks
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