Getting reacquainted with reading

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For a couple years now, I haven't really read a book - as in properly - as in with the respect it deserves. Without distraction, with a cup of tea, without my mobile in close proximity, but with my favourite cushion giving support to whatever part of my body that needs it. 

It was not due to a lack of books. Indeed, I have a healthy pile of all sorts of books waiting to be read: mysteries, self-help, thrillers, classics - you name it. Was it perhaps a lack of will power? Whatever it was, this tiny mountain of books would nag at me whenever I'd open the cupboard to grab an extra pen. Sitting pretty on the shelf, they would seem to nag at me, jeer at me and taunt me for being weak. The door would quickly and adamantly be shut and that would be that. 

Then it all changed. Unexpectedly. 

With my young niece and nephew having recently moved in with us, and with me being an English teacher (trumping me being their aunt in this matter), it was incumbent upon me to instil within them the love of reading. There are no end of studies that show kids with a robust reading habit have with them the skills to unlock unknown universes due to one simple fact: they have the words and they understand those words. 

And so it came to pass: one hour reading time everyday after breakfast. But here's the rub - you can't really impose something upon someone unless you can model that behaviour. I knew for this reading hour to work, I would have to toss out my laptop, my mobile, the never ending to do list and just simply read. 

So I did.

And I realised how much I had been missing - what joy, what peace! In three days I finished what I had been wanting to for ages: The Kite Runner. Wow. What emotions, what a journey and spoiler warning: Why kill off Hassan? That was rhetorical. I get it had to happen for the protagonist to be redeemed. Beautiful. As an afterthought, I was curious to know how the film had turned out - if there was a film adaptation - which there was. No. It couldn't capture any of the cathartic moments. Not a one. And I was reminded of yet one more irrefutable fact: the book will always be better than the movie.

Then I finished 'The Maidens' by Alex Michaelides. A good time. A quick whodunnit. 

I marvelled at the writers' choices - at the way their words had been woven to create an unforgettable tapestry of images. I appreciated the odd syntax of some of the sentences, the change in perspective, the art of it all. How infinitely small and inadequate I felt...  

I happened to open my cupboard full of books this morning. I didn't get any nagging! I could swear the books were giving me a coy smile. I just had to leave the door a tad ajar. It still is. 


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