For The Love Of Books

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” 

― George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

I love books. I have to thank my dad for introducing me to the world of books; it is the greatest gift my dad could have ever given me.

I am an avid book reader. I love to lose myself in a good book and a well-told plot. I love meeting new characters and connecting with them. I feel their joy, their pain, their triumphs and their defeats. I live and breathe with them. I feel the joy of the raindrops falling across their face, and I enjoy the warmth of the sun caressing their skin. I hear the birds chirp at dawn as they wake up, and I see the leaves as they drift lazily through the breeze while they take that solitary walk in the park. In short..stories give wings to my mind and soul.

At times I almost feel a physical connection with certain characters. I have experienced this intimate connection with the main character of Howard Roark in Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead, I have felt and lived through his pain and understood his way of thinking.

When you read and see the world through another person's eyes, it is quite breathtaking and overwhelming. Everyone envisages and perceives things differently and to actually glimpse into another person's perspective, is fascinating.

I love visiting all those new places a book describes. It is an escape of sorts I guess (not that I have anything I'm trying to escape "from" per se, but I enjoy having the opportunity to escape "into" those new worlds described in the books). I honestly feel that even if you have a great life, sometimes it’s nice to inhabit another one.

I love the smell of old books for some reason that I've never understood. Maybe it is because of the memories they evoke.. Their power to momentarily remind me and take me back to a certain point in my life amazes me. I think the attraction to the smell of old books is rooted in my love of books.