I knew exactly how to feel. I had done it before. The knot had tightened in my chest, my stomach rose to meet my throat. First, the affection surged, and then the pain, both at once forming a coagulated mass of unrecognizable emotion that no one has been able to pass along into routine vocabulary. It was always left... Continue Reading →
#6
I've read hardly 2 books in almost a year now. My reading has been interspersed with leafing through essays and more essays. However, fiction, just 2. The upside is that one of them was a book of absolute genius. I would write an 'On Reading...' post for the author, however, I must admit that I've... Continue Reading →
Budding Stories
There's a feeling inside me which knocks and tells me that I'm going far away from stories. All in all it is true because I've hardly read a book in over 4 months now. I've started too many of them, but read none to the end. So this feeling is becoming more and more pronounced... Continue Reading →
I Want to Read
Suddenly the words have drained their colours which have run down and smeared my fingertips, and stained my nails causing me to recoil every time I bite them in the anxiety of how I have lost the most precious of gifts - words. For I want to read a book, in the dead of the... Continue Reading →
Dilute Resolutions
This morning I was quickly going to write about how I decided to re-include reading in my schedule. I told myself - no matter if my travel is just 15 mins in the train, I shall dedicate those 15 mins solely for reading. Also, I decided to read a book written by a male author. This has... Continue Reading →
For the blog. For me.
I've spent enough time thinking of a good opening line for this post. Especially since I have so many things sitting right on top of my mind peeping over the ledge and, unfortunately, not falling over. I could do with a little less thinking you see. I have come to realise that sometimes no one... Continue Reading →
And then, there was Literature
The office library has been extended, and brand new books have been placed upon bookshelves. What pulled me inside the library was a view of the lined up stack of the P. G. Wodehouse Omnibus. The communication about the extension had come across, somehow, my laziness kept me from visiting the place. There are books... Continue Reading →
Some Day
This morning, I finished re-reading Black Milk by Elif Shafak. The first time I read it was in February this year when I was vacationing in Kerala. Back then it took me 5 hours to finish it. This time I savoured it much longer. I have come to the conclusion that this is a book I... Continue Reading →
On Reading Burgess
What’s it going to be then, eh? On the nochy I was given six books to read, I wondered which one I would go with first, now that I had a malenky biblio of my own. As I made my choice, I saw a book with a glass of moloko on the cover, and visions... Continue Reading →
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