Where are the books?

Where are the books?

I am writing this to motivate myself, I am writing this to blame myself and I am writing this to be read by myself. I cannot put the onus on anything other than me, to have shed the habit of reading books, such a shame! An avid reader once, I wonder where had that Kishore gone? Lost in the life?

I remember those days when me and my mom used to read so many books that the librarian had to curse us. He was so delirious of being a librarian just because of us. Sometimes we had to wait for a day to see new books coming in. We just didn’t read books, we read the library.

Today I find solace in incriminating the time, which I know is such a farce. I was a believer, admirer and often found peace in books, but now its all changed. I do not know the reason why, but since I started writing I felt bad. Bad because I lost that part of my brain which I loved, bad because I stopped from entertaining myself, bad because I stopped learning.

Now, I wanted to get back, back to myself and start reading again.

The soul searching stops here…

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