Reading.....what bliss art thou!

The mere sight of a LOADED book store - super inviting
Smelling the pages of a new book straight off the shelf - Sheer Bliss
Flipping through the pages of a short story book - More than bliss
Being that proud owner of a brand new edition of written text, the feeling is beyond words.

To all my friends who don't read (I doubt if I have any who don't) but still if you are reading this and fall in the above mentioned demographics, then pardon the melodrama. I'm usually not this over-the-top, but this is something closer to my heart and I truly feel like bragging about it loud and clear.

Back to what I was talking about, reading and the joy it brings. The term 'books are a mans(pardon the euphemism, but this is the phrase) best friend,' is much used almost to the point of being abused. But over the years I have realized the truth of the above stated.

Introduced to this wonderful world by my parents, at a rather early age, started with Russian fables and short stories, and Enid Blytons and what not. They would get me books thin and thick, making trips religiously to the International Book Fair held once in two years. But what merits this sudden trip down the memory lane. Well I just happened to stumble upon a copy of 'Best Russian Short Stories,' recently. Apart from experiencing all the above mentioned, I felt myself warming up to the idea of reading short stories all over again.

Not sure if you are with me so far, but this small red hard bound book, reminded me of those long summer breaks at school when I would pour over my English books, quickly skimming through the entire book for a rather rushed download of all the stories. Wonder years indeed.
How I miss those long summer after noons, lazing around and reading through the English Readers which would enrich the otherwise boring long summer days. How fondly I remember,Anita Desai's 'Games at Twilight,' which brought alive the real summer sentiment, while 'The Tribute,' had a rather rustic essence.

I could go on and on, but it would not quite capture the joy I feel in the companionship of a book. Reading what bliss art thou, to enliven long summer days, to make up for a missing friend, to enjoy the aroma of coffee and solitude, and sometimes to just be...