A lot of the people I know consider reading to be the dullest activity ever. Me? I think I could never survive life without it.
For me reading is like exploring Narnia through that wardrobe. The moment I open a book is equivalent to little Lucy opening the door to the magical land of Narnia. And as I leaf through the pages of the book, I find myself immersed in the adventures and tales of the narration. All my worries reduce to tiny specks of insignificant dust and I slowly lose sight of them. Reading opens my mind’s doors to endless possibilities. For a brief time I see the world through another’s eyes, feel pain as they would, rejoice as they would.
When I’m done reading the book, I’m overcome with a sudden realization that is the real world. My imagination comes to standstill as everything plays out right before my eyes, leaving no scope for imagination. I’m wrought and distraught until I find another fix, another book. Until I do, my mind is sullen and goes about the chores of the day without much fuss.
In the attempt to clean up, I stumble across the many books on the shelf that are waiting for a first-read. I am faced with another dilemma. Which one do I read first? Should I try a classic? Or a contemporary romance? Either way, bliss returns now that I have another fix for a read.