About Reading

So when did I develop my love for reading? Well I cannot point to any particular year or period of my life. Reading was always encouraged at home especially by my father. As a child, I saw my classmates reading the unabridged versions of Black Beauty, Moby Dick and all the Enid Blyton books. I am talking about fifth grade and even then I was totally into fairly tales and picture books. Picture books were a must. If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t read it. In the school library, as my peers would scramble to get hold of the Nancy Drews (Ned and Nancy were their guide to romance), I would coolly scan for fairy tales. No amount of shaming by my friends or their parents would convince me to do otherwise. I remember once I borrowed the unabridged Treasure Island from the library. I sat one afternoon sacrificing my noon nap to finish it. I couldn’t and I finally gave up and went to sleep though I managed to read through half the book.

I went as far as pretending that I couldn’t read properly because of my poor vision  to convince the people around me to stop pestering me about reading. One of the first books without pictures I read was Mountain of the Moon, a classic Bengali book. It was gifted to me by my grandfather along with Uncle Tom’s Cabin. This book was slimmer than the latter so I gave it a shot. It is the story of a village lad named Shankar Chaudhury who takes up a job with some railway company in Africa. Though thrilled initially, he eventually got bored of the routine and loneliness till the day he found a man unconscious near a pond he  frequented. The man whose name was Diego Alvarez, in a state of delirium told him about a diamond mine he has been searching for decades. Post recovery he asks Shankar if he would join him in his quest for the mine to which he readily agrees. Thus began an adventure through the jungles of Africa.

Alvarez does not live to find the mine. An animal called Dingoneck which is a rare breed of vicious monkey, thought to be the protector of diamond mines, attacked and killed him (Is the movie Congo inspired from this book? Or is there really such a breed of vicious monkeys which guards over the diamonds?). Shankar, now on his own gets lost in a cave which he entered for casual inspection. After two days of starvation which forced him to eat the sole of his shoes he finally makes it out. A few days later while crossing the desert he finds the remains of a man and a letter  written by the deceased. His name was Attilio Gatti. He was of Italian descent. He found the mine. It was the cave where Shankar was trapped! He managed to fill his pockets with the uncut stones. As he lay dying in the desert he was writing this letter. The stranger who found his body can take all the diamonds, he wrote. In return he asked for a Christian burial. Shankar fulfills his last wish and after an arduous travel through the desert he was finally rescued.

It took me about a week to finish the book. I was so engrossed in reading, it didn’t even occur to me that I was actually reading a book! After reading the last word of the last sentence of the last page the realization dawned. I was so happy to have read it, to have lived an adventure through words. Ever since then I wanted to go to Africa. Not for the diamond mines. But to be in the place I read about. This I think was the beginning.

Next were the Tintin comics, a few months later. And they came with pictures (huge grin)!  But it wasn’t till the Harry Potter’s that I got into serious reading. My aunt gifted me the first three Harry Potter books. I tried reading the Sorcerer’s Stone many times and failed. I could never get past the first chapter, The boy who lived. I found it abominably boring. The same year (2002), I was hospitalized for tonsillectomy. I somehow thought of carrying the first two HP books with me. Alone in the hospital, I managed to read the entire first book. It was the same exhilarating feeling. I was so engrossed that I didn’t even realize I was actually reading it till I finished the book. And the rest, as they say is history. I gobbled up the next three books pretty fast.

Next year I was waiting eagerly for the Order of Phoenix and finally it released and I bought it. We were vacationing in Shantiniketan that winter. I dont remember what I saw much. All I remember is that I was lost in Hogwart’s, among Dumbledore’s Army and badly wanted to flog Umbridge. Then like that year after year I waited till the last book Deathly Hallows.  Harry Potter more than anything else taught me to read. It was a fantasy with emotions I could identify with. It changed my world in a way I cannot express in words.

As an undergrad I was introduced to Sidney Sheldon, Robin Cook, Agatha Christie, Paulo Coelho and Jeffrey Archer by my friend. I devoured each and every book that came my way.  I did not discriminate against what I was reading. I was hungry for information.

An author who had a profound influence on me was Meg Cabot.  It was the author more than the stories that intrigued me. Meg Cabot is a big believer and promoter of following your dreams. It was she who taught me how to dream and believe that my dreams can actually come true if I worked towards it. She gave me the courage to dream through her books, her blog, her youtube videos. She had a huge impact on me at a time I was depressed out of my wits and had no idea where I was headed. Most importantly she made me laugh.

In between I have read classics like Pride and Prejudice and Atlas Shrugged. Mr Darcy is the perfect romantic hero who has spoiled every other romantic protagonist for me. As I was reading Jane Eyre, I kept comparing him to Darcy and ultimately put the book down unable to take the torture any further. They couldn’t be more different.

Jhumpa Lahiri’s writing touched my heart. I keep re-reading her book Interpreter of Maladies, the short story The third and final continent in particular.

I have lost count of the number of books I read. Right now I am reading the Fifty Shades trilogy. But one thing is for sure- I want to visit all the places I read about, starting from Ireland to Fisherman’s Wharf. I have already visited many.

Reading, my passion, makes me dream more and keeps my wanderlust alive. I had a rocky start but I got there finally. Who I am today is because of all the books I read. I, too wanted to write stories and I am writing! Real life stories of everyday heroes, people who lie forgotten in remote parts of the country.

P.S. I read Nancy Drew and Enid Blyton as an undergrad and proud that I did. I have many more miles to go but confident that I will get there as I got here.

Some of my favorite books:

• Pride and Predujice-Jane Austen
• Guy next door- Meg Cabot
• Acts of faith-Erich Segal
• Not a penny more, not a penny less- Jeffrey Archer
• The Fountainhead- Ayn Rand
• Harry Potter and the order of Phoenix- JK Rowling
• Interpreter of maladies, The Namesake-Jhumpa Lahiri
• Born in fire- Nora Roberts
• Veronika decides to die, The Alchemist- Paulo Coelho
• The ladies no. 1 detective agency- Alexander McCall Smith
• And then there were none, Death comes as the end, The Hollow, The man in the brown suit, The secret adversary- Agatha Christie