I was deliberating
whether to insert ‘positive’ or ‘negative’ before the word ‘effects’. Because
if you are a bibliophile or book lover like me, all these effects will seem
brightly positive, bringing a big smile and forcing you to blurt out ‘guilty as
charged’. But on the other hand if you are one of those who feel drowsy even at
the thought of reading or end up sleeping while holding these books in hand,
the effects may seem negative. Hence in consideration to the mixed audience, I
choose to keep it neutral. Read them as positive or negative depending on your
take and nod or raise your eyebrows as it fits best.
Needless to say books
are everything for the book lover in me. But I must be truthful- all of this
love flourished only after I bid good-bye to the educational ones. For any
school or college kids reading this, rest assured no course work books have the
power to bring out a long post like this one. Unless you are a book worm - in
which case, I rest my case.
Give me a big mug of
coffee, a non-fiction book (though I enjoy fiction too), one quiet corner and
no one gets hurt. While buried behind the book, one may not even realize my presence
- ensuring peace, silence and feeling of well-being. No wonder my husband likes
it best when I am more engrossed inside the pages and less involved in
discussions that may obviously end into typical husband-wife arguments. Win-win
for all. But this post is not to celebrate positive effects for a person
surrounded by book-lovers (like my husband), rather for the first-hand joy of
entering into a wonderful maze of words.
Books transport me
to a different world that is totally novel from the one around me. While non-
book lovers will take it as a sign of alienation and aloofness, it is a perfect
way to be there, yet be away. They enable so many experiences that would not be
possible even if we strive hard to accomplish each one down the line. I do not
intend to make this an educational post discussing the rich knowledge and store
of information, but will strive to depict some lovely experiences as seen by a
book lover. I cannot convey all the feelings that a book delivers because those
are definitely beyond the scope of my vocabulary, but I will make an attempt to
introduce it as much as I can.
Read on and do convey
your feedback. To all the fellow bibliophiles- I sincerely hope to do justice
to at least a tiny fraction of what you feel, but do forgive me for the lack of
good words and to the non-bibliophiles- hit back with your arguments; the
floor is open for discussion or war, whichever seems best.
1.
Being there, doing that
Pick any book and it seems inviting. It
takes the reader into an unknown world and creates the perfect setting. It
drives one to imagine, feel, experience and be there at the site of action. I
am always transported to a different area that gives me an up, close and
personal view of the topic. From moon exploration to the mars expedition,
travel diaries to dry economics, books have the ability, power and strength to
take me where the action is.
2.
All that matters is the word in sight
Each time I
pick a book, I am drawn to the present and forced to focus. It is similar to a
kind of mindfulness meditation that demands every ounce of energy to the task
in sight. All forms of distractions or stray thoughts seem to disappear because
the words in hand need my attention. Undoubtedly, books sharpen concentration
and engage everyone to the ‘here and now’.
3.
New book = new friendship
No matter what the topic is, I always feel
books communicate to me as a friend. It starts with a little awkwardness where
I am trying to understand the new person, progresses with excellent
communication and feeling of trust when I develop a strong bond and finally
takes me to the end where I am unwillingly forced to bid good-bye. I agree not
every book delivers the same amount of friendship, but that is exactly how we
feel in real life too. Some friends are closet to heart, while few are mere
acquaintances.
4.
More reception to the outer world
Though books take me to a different place,
they do not make me aloof when I return back to reality. In fact, I experience
more understanding, connection and affection to the immediate surrounding. In
order to differentiate the world of books and the reality of present, I
experience a desire to contribute myself to the surrounding. Though books tend
to instill dreams and empower imagination, all of it ceases as soon as the book
is shut. The idea is to soak into whatever you are doing.
5.
A lingering positivity that lasts
Of course this depends on the topic and
kind of books one chooses. You cannot expect happy thoughts after a dark
mystery, but based on my preference for non-fiction, I realize books deliver a
sense of happiness. These feelings of joy may not be the same every time
because of diverse topics, but the effect is a novel sense of pleasure. I am
more in charge of happiness and feeling of well-being than dreaming
unnecessarily about something that may not be true.
6.
Knowing something about everything
Books are designed to act as storehouse of
knowledge. Staying true to this purpose, they deliver nothing but pure
information. While I may not be able to learn, understand, implement and
reproduce every tiny bit of information, reading about varied topics introduces
me to lot many things. It allows me to go to unknown territories. Like my
recent introduction to the world of modern and contemporary arts has given me a
sneak-peek into an otherwise distinct and unrelated field.
7.
A unique sense of ‘aha’ moment
A good book is the one that relates to you
and speaks to your mind directly instead of lying around as cold facts and plain
words. When I dive into such an engaging book, I encounter numerous moments of
connection. The bond seems so strong prompting a quick smile, a quiet wow and
an unexplainable sense of joy. Though this is a positive effect, I am worried
to embarrass myself in a library or public place, while smiling alone with a
book in hand.
There are many more effects but I may not
be able to capture all of them through my limited understanding of written
words. These are experiences that are close to heart, but miles away from appropriate and adequate expression.
Coming to the end, what is your verdict? Were
these effects- positive or negative? Did they seem to connect or appear alien?
And what is your take when or if you bury or pretend to be buried behind books?
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