Love

You know that soft kiss on your pink cheek,

every sunshine morning?  

I want to do it for you.

 

You know that holding your hand when you need it,

Understanding; without speaking a word?

I want to do it for you. Really.

 

You know that me behaving silly just to crack you to laugh,

on your hollow dark night?

I want to keep doing it for you. Always.

 

You know that dream of someone special you wanted,

Looking just at you and smelling your hair?

I want to do that for you. Forever.

Forever.

 

But not now, not any more.

Go away You,

For I have no Love to give,

To you or anyone.

Sexy smell of an old book.

My mom genuinely tried making me read books just like my elder sibling did in the early yrs of growing up. But I guess her approach to get me engaged in it, never really enticed me. I wasn't the calmer nobler self like my sister and so the same tricks wouldn't have worked for me. More so my attitude, who reads books anyways, when you have a whole bunch of friends to have fun with and play sports or videogames in your spare time. Books naively meant school or formal education to me at that age. It still does to many i know.

I think i was 11 when my sister thought of giving another try to having me read books, hers was a better attempt. Something i have been silently thankful till date. I distinctly remember her patience of reading to me than forcing a brat young boy to do it himself. A mocking older sibling convinced my alter ego that listening might not be any harm and i readily bought that. It took not more than a few pages before i took the book from her hand to continue on an adventurous journey that i keep living differently with every new book i have ever picked up. Reading became a matter of choice and i shook my head in wonderment with every turning page.

I have neither been shocked nor appalled by knowing that some of my good friends have never actually read anything worthy in their life. In fact, I have been disappointed by them and their pseudo intelligence. If degrees and money is all have earned in life, I genuinely feel sorry for them living
as uneducated and in poverty. It will be futile blood burning attempt to explain that you missed a great aspect of your irrelevant existance in universe. I can nothing but smile and pity.

“A good book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading.”  ― William Styron

Second hand and pirated books fit my pocket money of those days and I willingly picked them up devouring them greedily. Once in a while, I have kept losing touch with my hobby but sooner or later i come back to myself as a reader, ready to go on another adventure. Just like that kid after his first book from Blyton. That, five on kirran island again.