I grew up reading poems like Ozymandias where the bottom line was that all art would stand the test of time and be passed on until the day the world ceases to exist. It’s only natural that this only further pushed me into the world of reading and writing. To everybody else, I’m probably just sitting in the corner like a loner, with my nose buried in a book, or with a laptop in which I’m typing away trying to make sense of the ideas in my head. But nobody sees what I can see. I see wars, magic, dystopian realms, places I’ve never been to. It’s like I’ve lived every book I’ve ever read.
I think my fellow reading enthusiasts would agree with me when I say that a book is so much more than just words printed over the paper. They’re windows to worlds that cannot be comprehended by those who have no imagination in them. Reading has been such a big part of my life, and, sadly, I haven’t been able to do too much of it lately. But I cannot wait to get back to feeling that rush when you’re reading a good book, turning the pages in anticipation, not wanting the story to end but wanting the story to take a sharp twist all the same— and I will get back to it soon.
The very reason why I do what I do today is that once upon a time, somebody had the sense to hand me a book. Who knew that reading and writing would turn out to be the loves of my life? I chose this for one very simple reason: words, when properly arranged, are nothing short of magic. My friend and I were discussing yesterday how when we read a book, we leave a part of us in the book and instead, a part of the book stays behind inside us. That’s such a beautiful way to look at reading, isn’t it? I only wish that more people spent a little bit of their time reading.
So many people look at reading as though it is an ‘escape’ from the routine of the real world, and it is true. Reading can truly have that effect on people. But the more you disconnect from this habit, the more you find your imagination going for a toss. I’ve stayed away from books for a while now because of everything else going on at the moment, and I can tell you that my creative imagination has taken a serious hit. But my best friends decided to gift me books for my birthday this year like they always do, and it reminded me of the very reason I started writing in the first place. It was like a wake-up call at the right time.
So today, even though I didn’t have the time to read, I focused on how stories are developed in the shows I watch, very closely. I was blown away by the kind of intricacies that a writer needs to keep in mind when they work on a script. Intricacies that make the reader (or in my case, the audience) to feel like they’ve lived the story in the characters’ shoes. I’ve got such a long way to go in making an attempt to create a world that everyone would want to be a part of till the end of time, but until then, I’ll be part of the countless worlds I’ve ventured to.
If you’re somebody who has lost touch with reading, take a few minutes of your day to start reading again. Don’t let this habit go. I can promise you that nothing lasts forever except for the stories that we read and pass down to the next generation. That is how art survives. We’re not immortal beings, but reading lets us live more lives than anybody can ever hope for.
Sounds tempting, doesn’t it?
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