the new lamps came up in the living room yesterday. Three white round lamps, that hang down from the ceiling and disturb the sleep of the money plant, the little flowering potted fellow and the dancing leaves nut case of a plant that are the newest residents to the house.
The lighting livens up the room, the lighting is just perfect for the most pleasurable passtime of all reading. Aah, in a book called Virginia Monologues, there was an interesting aspect to reading that was highlighted. As the author Virginia grew up, she nestled in her room to read and her mother would be on the look out to throw her out to do SOMETHING MEANINGFUL !!!
Reading was seen as the epitome of indulgence, there was nothing created nothing done.
I smiled as I curled into the window seat, of my flight reading those lines. Memories of summer holidays, where the world of words was my guide floated before me. Books and me, cant seem to be torn apart for very long. Its hopeless really, to recall some of the most hideous places where I have read a book... lets see
- the moving jolting car rides on the hills
- on the pot
- in the traffic while driving
- while walking on the roads
- in villages at local tea stalls
- in the parlour while someone cut my hair
- bus stops
- in busses, trams, metros, anything anywhere where someone else was driving
- at the most scenic mountain resorts, where reading seemed impossible to stop vs gazing outside
my mother and me had our book fights too. As a kid, it was but obvious that the fattest largest most racy book would be picked up by me right before the exams. Addiction would come and plonk herself on the desk right in between the Maths and the Geography books.
Baas that was it. The old tricks would be hauled out from the 'outwit mother' cupboard.
Trick 1 - place the book inside the history book. Remember to turn pages of both periodically
Trick 2- Cover the book with news paper and label it Biology Human Anatomy-II
Trick 3- have an upset belly and sit in the loo for long stages
Mothers ofcourse being genetically smarter, would have to do things like hide the book, ration reading time and worst return the book to the library. That was just too much to bear. Last evening, as I raced through a Kurt Vonnnegut - a man without a country, I laughed at the craziness that books got to ones life.
Curled into the couch, there was a contentment to the moment, an ageing angry man ranted in the book about fossil fuels and the loss of the world, the lamps danced in the breeze and yet again the cities of new york seemed to have a sense of knowigness about them, though there wasnt a physical step that I had taken there.
From truffle treats, the hot chocolate, pixies to candies, from noddy to the world war, it has been only the land of books that has gotten me closer to the truth than the news, made me delve into the layers of universes unknown to me and often ever so often, said something that had rumbled in my belly but never had formed a line a lucid thought of speech
Smiling,I gazed at the clouds lingering below my flight and nodded my head.
it sure was. Reading sure was the biggest indulgence that one had.
one that bought me more joy than even bubbles
a library was a heaven of candy that was non consumable
and a book, a treasure to be opened.
if all else i loose, let me not loose the joys of devouring a book
The lighting livens up the room, the lighting is just perfect for the most pleasurable passtime of all reading. Aah, in a book called Virginia Monologues, there was an interesting aspect to reading that was highlighted. As the author Virginia grew up, she nestled in her room to read and her mother would be on the look out to throw her out to do SOMETHING MEANINGFUL !!!
Reading was seen as the epitome of indulgence, there was nothing created nothing done.
I smiled as I curled into the window seat, of my flight reading those lines. Memories of summer holidays, where the world of words was my guide floated before me. Books and me, cant seem to be torn apart for very long. Its hopeless really, to recall some of the most hideous places where I have read a book... lets see
- the moving jolting car rides on the hills
- on the pot
- in the traffic while driving
- while walking on the roads
- in villages at local tea stalls
- in the parlour while someone cut my hair
- bus stops
- in busses, trams, metros, anything anywhere where someone else was driving
- at the most scenic mountain resorts, where reading seemed impossible to stop vs gazing outside
my mother and me had our book fights too. As a kid, it was but obvious that the fattest largest most racy book would be picked up by me right before the exams. Addiction would come and plonk herself on the desk right in between the Maths and the Geography books.
Baas that was it. The old tricks would be hauled out from the 'outwit mother' cupboard.
Trick 1 - place the book inside the history book. Remember to turn pages of both periodically
Trick 2- Cover the book with news paper and label it Biology Human Anatomy-II
Trick 3- have an upset belly and sit in the loo for long stages
Mothers ofcourse being genetically smarter, would have to do things like hide the book, ration reading time and worst return the book to the library. That was just too much to bear. Last evening, as I raced through a Kurt Vonnnegut - a man without a country, I laughed at the craziness that books got to ones life.
Curled into the couch, there was a contentment to the moment, an ageing angry man ranted in the book about fossil fuels and the loss of the world, the lamps danced in the breeze and yet again the cities of new york seemed to have a sense of knowigness about them, though there wasnt a physical step that I had taken there.
From truffle treats, the hot chocolate, pixies to candies, from noddy to the world war, it has been only the land of books that has gotten me closer to the truth than the news, made me delve into the layers of universes unknown to me and often ever so often, said something that had rumbled in my belly but never had formed a line a lucid thought of speech
Smiling,I gazed at the clouds lingering below my flight and nodded my head.
it sure was. Reading sure was the biggest indulgence that one had.
one that bought me more joy than even bubbles
a library was a heaven of candy that was non consumable
and a book, a treasure to be opened.
if all else i loose, let me not loose the joys of devouring a book
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