Me.
Paperback.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
"Sometimes I sensed that the books I read in rapid succession had set up some sort of murmur among themselves, transforming my head into an orchestra pit where different musical instruments sounded out, and I would realize that I could endure this life because of these musicales going on in my head."
The New Life, Orhan Pamuk
I have always had a deep love of books. In fact, I think of all the love I have ever experienced, my love for books is the one love that has been sincere throughout.
I have grown up with the likes of Tolkien, Irving, Fitzgerald, Hardy, and most importantly: Dostoevsky.
I was once laughed at, because I dropped a book, and after picking it up, I touched it to my forehead and then to my heart as an apology for allowing it to fall. I cannot blame those who laughed, I would have done the same had I been in their position, had I not understood the significance of books to my being.
I am who I am today, not just because of the way my environment has moulded me, but because of the books I have read. Like any other book lover, I have travelled to distant places, visited lands alien to mankind. I have tasted, time and again, the waters of a distant shore, and I have felt the joy and sorrow of many a man and woman.
I have lived a hundred different lives, and so I have loved and lost a thousand more.
Ah, books.
The point of this post is that I am thankful for all that has been written, for all the ideas and the stories that have been shared. They have made me who I am today. They will continue to mould me, continue to take me to places I've never been to before.
And I can't wait to start on the next book.
Given a certain level of thought byAdam Dewind at 11:12 PM
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