How are we as readers?

– How much of it is enough and what if it never is? –

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Where does your mind take you whenever you hear any variation of the word ‘read’? Perhaps, to a classroom speaking aloud words from a textbook, or memorizing stanzas for an exam, or silently absorbing news headlines on television, or to lazy afternoons, curled up on the couch, nose-deep in a gripping novel.

For me, as for many, it is all of the above and more. Observing the way my mother’s lips moved around hundreds of words while she read me bedtime stories, I call that reading, too. I read through her long before I learnt how to read and discern sentences for myself. Soon, I found myself reading any text I could get my hands on regardless of my mind not having developed yet to comprehend most of it. My favourite part of this good habit was reading out loud. I loved the sound of the words coming from my mouth, serving the purpose of dual learning – reading correctly and improved diction. Back then, I didn’t realise how the practice of it would shape my childhood pastime into a delightfully rewarding hobby. And I have never looked back since. Why should I? I wouldn’t be the way I am today if not for that singlemost gratifying proclivity for reading.

I am a voracious reader. Not only of novels or poetry but everything ranging from print media / online articles, instruction manuals A to Z (in multiple languages, if available), dictionaries, billboards, picture captions, public comments, fanfiction to tiny indecipherable letters on tags, labels, warnings on toiletries even! And not just a casual glance or skim-through-the-words either, even when I know exactly what’s written on some. I feel this desperate need to read them letter-by-letter, a few times, at least. Kinda obsessive, don’t you think? (Please, don’t tell me there’s a word for it.) If something available audio-visually happens to have a written representation too, you know which one I’d pick. I don’t want to cure myself of this, should I say, mania, because it has brought to me the next best thing, in my opinion.

Writing. I love to write because I have a lot to say. I also cannot speak in brief when I am passionate about something (evidently) so when I’m conversing with a friend or simply writing something for a future read, the words flow endlessly. The most startling discovery, however, has been my poetry-writing skill. I am still very much a nouveau in that aspect but it has come to be the sweetest fruit of my cultivation above. Never in my short life did I imagine I’d one day be able to write poems, not even childish ones. I’ve always enjoyed reading poetry tremendously, as I am sure most of you do. Moving, heartwarming, humorous, reverence-educing poetry has been a dream I never dared to dream. I still don’t know how it came to me but the extensive yet limited vocabulary I have been gifted with (I have a dictionary and thesaurus on me at all times), the imagination required, the stability of thoughts, their convergence to a point where I can set the first dot on paper, the stream of words from heart and mind to the tip of my pen, the uncertainty of the direction my words take, to the final bursting of the dam causing an outpour of all I want to say – I attribute it all to my good old reading custom.

“Words are our most inexhaustible source of magic.”

J.K. Rowling

I have achieved a lot, in more ways than one, ever since I was introduced into this world, I persisted, kept it up, made it a part of my other worlds and vice-versa, with unfailing interest and a zeal as vigorous as it was in those early days. You don’t have to read famous books or elaborate articles or sophisticated words to identify yourself as a reader. Every little read matters. Though it is recommended to enhance the standard of our reads once we are well past the point of developing this habit (and delve into the deeper realms of it), any kind of read helps us in unexpected ways. Everything from our reading abilities to communicating successfully is vastly improved.

I urge people to read whenever I get the opportunity, supplying them with ideas to begin with, books to give a chance to, childhood classics perhaps, which are pretty much timeless and not barred by age, etc. With the advent of electronic books (and other electronic distractions, unfortunately) and thereby their easy availability, I hope this dwindling tradition revives and survives through generations to come. I personally am a hardcore paperback/hardbound reader trying to preserve an over half-a-century old collection of books and letters as long as I have the means to. I feel extremely lucky to belong to a family where every last member is an ardent rapacious reader. Call it a long-standing tradition.

The thought, or better yet, the realisation, that one lifetime isn’t enough to read all that I want to and need to, paralyzes me sometimes. But, until then, it’s an understatedly wonderful life. Keep reading!