Actually Turning Pages In A Book - How Atrocious

It is so heavy - how am I supposed to hold it with both hands, turn pages and snack on the side? Just holding it, my hand is aching. And the worst thing is that I have to turn the pages physically, and to add to the injury, I cannot just tap a word to figure out what the nuanced meaning is. I cannot even find out how much is remaining without going through the arduous process of figuring out how much is left, where I am, and doing the math myself. And it is so heavy…

And it continues, if you are a book lover, you probably have guessed at what I am talking about—a physical book vs a Kindle. Sometimes I find a nice book in a library that I bring home, and then I struggle to hold it and read it. Now, I like fat books which take a good four to six hours to finish, but they are such a pain, especially after reading on Kindle. I wonder how I ever survived when physical books were the only option.

Today was a perfect day to snuggle in and read a book - I am reading Raven Scholar by Antonia Hodgson. It is raining outside - the storm clouds have darkened the afternoon, and I need the reading light next to the couch, which is the witness to all sorts of reading positions. Lying on my stomach, on my back, with my leg hanging down the couch, with my leg dangling on top of the couch, sitting - who needs yoga when you are a reader? And it comes naturally to you when you are a book lover - my seven-year-old niece also exhibits the same behaviour, which is proof of an avid book lover.

When I am reading a book, I am lost in its depths, and that feeling is almost like a meditation. It feels like an ache lodged deep in my body. And that ache can never be satisfied, almost like an addiction, I guess. I have been very busy with work, so much so that I have not been able to read books as I usually do. But every couple of weeks, I find myself reading a book cover to cover, like a thirsty person in a desert who has finally found a well after weeks of walking through a scorched landscape. It makes me whole so that I can continue until the next time. Reading makes me whole in an unexplainable way - it has been my refuge when I have been hurt, happy, upset, alone, lonely, homesick or just sick. Name it, and I can associate reading a book with it. Even as a kid, I remember the distinct, cosy feeling of holding an Enid Blyton book in my hand during the summer holidays. That knowing that I can escape into a world different from mine.

Book reading is not a communal activity, but the readers connect. It is a knowing which cannot be articulated. Like when my brother talks about my niece, my heart swells with pride that kids these days still love books, that we have another reader in the family, and just knowing she will never be lonely. It does not matter where you are in the world or what you are going through - books will always be there for you. They don’t get annoyed, they don’t get jealous - they are just there for you to pick them up. While I may complain about reading an actual book, I will suffer willingly because it is worth it.

Here is to turning pages on an actual book - what is your relationship with books and reading?