Never Alone!

How reading books saved me!

"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”
Soren Kierkegaard 

"Books come into your life for a reason."
From Wild Game by Adrienne Broderick.

I'm fascinated by the world of books! I'm pleasantly surprised when an author arouses in me, a sense of oneness, of how readily I'm able to identify with him or her, where nothing links us except a shared experience. A writer finds any number of stories to write about, driven by a need to express and a need to share. I'm sure such a book will find readers! How I wish, I too could tell a story! Maybe the story of my life! I've already thought of the title - Never Alone! But I know I'll need a wizard of an editor, one who could transform the drab to the dazzling. For I just wonder what I could share, of this, my very ordinary life, so full of human foibles and failings. I believe Writing is a calling! More so, storytelling. A story teller needs to prepare for it. Maintain a diary. Note down agitating experiences. So one can chew the cud at leisure. But I did none of those. Add to it a stock of unreliable memory, rusted and sterile....I find myself thoroughly unfit for the task.

Encouraged by finding a treasure trove of books in our old wooden vault, I started reading as a girl. But then I could never add anything new to that cache. Buying books was never an option. I did try borrowing, but ended up with books I never relished. At that time, I was completely unaware of the genres that existed. Strangely all the books that fell into my hands were fiction and somehow, I didn't much care for them. Even this awareness came very late in life. Because of this ignorance, for a long period of time, I hardly read any book.

I remember reading a few short stories in prescribed texts that brought me great joy. the first definitely was Room on the Roof by Ruskin Bond, a reader prescribed for my ICSE Board Exams. The other was Jungle Stories by Norah Burke. It contained fascinating stories of growing up in the Jungle and that should have given me a cue to the genres I enjoyed, But I guess, other aspects of life needed attention. Later, I must have simply grown lazy!

The second opportunity at reading presented itself when my daughters brought home books during their vacation. The first book I truly enjoyed and read with uncharacteristic glee was Indian Journeys by Dom Moraes. It was a collection of essays on trips to places known and unknown and it kindled my wanderlust. I remember an account of a forest ranger about the elephants of the Dalma Hills, in whose foothills, I was born and raised. The next few books I picked were all about travels in India. Another book, I recall is Without a Doubt- by Marcia Clark. It was my introduction to criminal justice or injustice in this case, on the O J Simpson trial. I added true crime to my repotoire of books.

"Books will change your life," said Margot to me, (from the book Wild Game) "You have no idea how much you can learn about yourself by plunging into someone else’s life, You can read your way into a whole new narrative for yourself!"  I agree with Margot wholeheartedly. In every book I read, I learnt how characters coped with adversity, bad choices and life's onslaughts. It began with the book Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance. It helped me look at my experience in a better light. And then came the realisation that all along I was looking for. Margot continued speaking to me, " Books come into your life for a reason", she reconfirmed.

Since the Covid lockdown, staying at home, I have all the time in the world for my books. In moments of deep realisation, books become my saviours. I escape into their world and read about gripping stories. I am taking part in a Reading Challenge. I read like one possessed, noting down ideas and thoughts which touch me. I write reviews about them all. I blog about how they affect me. In a sense, these books are nurturing me. They keep me going. I look forward to completing them.

I have been enjoying memoirs, autobiographies and biographies, travel literature and nature diaries, books on families and relationships, cities and wilderness, monuments and wars, love and loss, food and fashion, true crime and law, and so much much more. Once in a way, I do pick up a fiction for old times' sake, but soon see through the story, contrived and realigned to suit a story line. I am almost done with fantasy and wild imagination! I crave for the real! "Non Fiction speaks to the head", says Ellen Hopkins. "You live most of your life inside of your head, make sure it's a nice place to be," reads a quote from Buddhism.

In this journey of finding a genre, one misstep is still fresh in my mind. Once my son in law asked me what book I'd like for my birthday. I was inquisitive about bestsellers and requested the one that year, without checking out the review. He parceled it dutifully across seas and holding the book in my hand was a joy which has never been replicated. Sadly, I have never completed it, it is a philosophical fantasy fiction-Life of Pi by Yann Martel, and I could not make myself read it. I'm sure, if I had sent a feedback, my son in law would have inundated me with books. Perhaps we're both waiting!

I get lost in book after book I read, but strangely, I also find myself! Books have taught me never to dwell in the past. This is one life I have, it is important to stand tall and move forward. Happiness is a choice that you have to make for yourself. I learnt how stress and pain can manifest themselves in bewildering ways. I also learnt that life is not fair. And everyday, I learnt it is important to stand up to a bully, which may even be inside you! After every book I read, I look at my life with new eyes. And now I can see the romanticism in my life. I'm amused.














Sent from my iPad