Category: Thoughts uncut

The Chronicles of Reading

chronicles of readingI’ve tried it many times, and I’ve failed every time. I can’t read ebooks. Guess I just have to accept that.

I’ve tried so hard to get excited about the modern revolution and the “all new” kindle that Amazon releases every now and then. But when I try to read a book on my device, I can’t feel anything other than the pressure of finishing a chore.

It’s like dandruff at the back of my head, hiding in plain sight and disrupting my sleep until I’m rid of it. I spend almost 12 hours a day at work going through research papers, Facebook statuses, tech magazines, how-to guides, blogs, forum topics, Twitter updates, technical documents, and even tips for the solo traveler. And at the end of such a day, if I have to stare at more fiction on a screen, I just can’t.

Pity plenty of authors nowadays prefer self-publishing and ebooks. As someone who wants to call herself a writer, it’s ironic that I can’t stand the non-existent smell of a shatter-proof scratch guard, and the heat of the declining battery.

I still want to feel the frayed edges of a book and curse the one who handled it before me. I like my mind nagging me every time I put a book inside my bag; what if the edges get damaged? I still strive to finish reading a book with the spine erect as if it had never been opened.

I enjoy the mild weight of a book nestled between my favourite pyjamas in my backpack while I travel home. I want to feel the thrill of flipping through a page, the dread that comes with pages attached to one another, and the quickening of my pulse when I reach the end of a dangling chapter.

And I still want to be able to shut a book with a snap, look into the wall opposite me and go, “Wow!”

I’m just an old-fashioned reader who wants to (one day) become a published author — the good ol’ fashioned way. I know the word’s moving towards electronic reading. It may not be the best of times for my kind of people, but — though Dickens may protest — it’s not the worst of times either.

It’s My Life

I’m a loner, a solo player

who’s surrounded by none.

Cross-legged I sit and stare

perched on my pedestal above

There I sleep, eat, drink, and live

‘Cos I’m a loner, sailing solo

And my bed is my island.

Why I Didn’t Read the Millennium Series

millenium

I started reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but I couldn’t even get past half of the book.

But the funny thing is that I hadn’t accepted it, until now. I tried giving it another try, again, and again. And again, and again I failed.

I just couldn’t get through it.

Perhaps it’s just me, I thought. But now, I’ve learnt to forgive myself; it’s the book. I just don’t like books like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

I only tried it because of two reasons: One, my book-freak cousin recommended it. Every time she spoke about the book, her eyes would sparkle with dream-like awe. She had warned be about the dull start, but she also told me how awesome it would get after that.

I never got to the interesting part. I couldn’t tolerate it that long.

Second reason: The title. I do this a lot. I judge a book by the cover, but more so by the title. And ever so often, I’ve been wrong. But I still stick to my instincts.

It was an attractive title. A story about a girl with a dragon tattoo. I like dragons, tattoos, and girls who get tattoos. I drooled at the title.

For all the drooling I did, the book disappointed me. With my cousin’s word, I had expected too much of the book. Perhaps it was my fault to set unrealistic expectations. Still, the fact is, I don’t like topics that the book addresses.

Of course, I enjoyed Lisbeth Salander’s attitude and arrogance. Sure, I could relate to Blomkvist’s thirst for recognition, but I did not enjoy the plot moving all over the place.

I’m uncomfortable with simultaneous subplots and empty scenes. A lot of slow-moving incidents threw me off the main plot, and I couldn’t find my way back with the same enthusiasm as before.

And so, I stopped reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I wanted to like the book. Just like so many others. People kept saying how great the book was, tying it with the author’s sinister death.

I couldn’t see it, though. I couldn’t understand why it’s such a big deal. I tried, and I failed. And disappointed. I didn’t want to hate the book.

But shit happens.

Never Say Nay

Today’s prompt was a little weird. Deprive, it said. And I at once thought of a stern mother depriving her child of ice cream. That was too obvious. So I thought of one other thing you should never deprive yourself of. I came up with a list.

  • Sleep

Because, well, not sleeping for too long will kill you and no one wants that. Besides, what’s the worth of living if you don’t give yourself some time off?

  • Food

I couldn’t help it. I have a troubled relationship with food. Sometimes, I binge, and sometimes I cringe at food. But even I can’t say no to some bread and shredded chicken.

  • Love

People say it’s the most important thing for a human being. I’d agree, but only if it involves self-love. We live in a world that teaches young children to look in the mirror at hate what they see. And from what I know, a child who deprives self-love deprives life itself.

  • Books

Everyone should be able to read. It’s not just a gateway to worlds as mysterious as Narnia, but a book is a treasure to cherish. Plus, you’d look cool quoting Aristotle during a fancy dinner.

  • Coffee

To keep us going…

  • Tea

It’s not often that you see both tea and coffee in the same list, but I’m weird like that. I like my tea first thing in the morning. And I like it better when I make it myself. Because, sometimes, you just need tea.

  • Shakespeare

Never deprive yourself the treat that is Shakespeare. From “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds,” to “Thou art as fat as butter,” to “All that glitters is not gold,” the man is too precious to ignore.

I might have left out a few, but that’s my list. What’s on your never-deprive-yourself-of list?

Life Goals

I wake everyday thinking to awe myself

I clock in earlier at work to awe my boss

I linger at the canteen to awe the woman

Regret wasting time, but awe her nevertheless

˙˙˙˙˙

I work late into night to awe my colleagues

Order for a fancy dinner to awe the waiter boy

And drown a pint of beer to awe the bartender

I’d throw up afterward, but awe them nevertheless

˙˙˙˙˙

I wake everyday thinking to awe myself.

And sleep at night thinking, “tomorrow.”