Some books are home

"After reading a book, you start looking at people differently."

Someone great quoted this some days ago. And it made so much sense not only to her but to everyone who read it. It's amazing how we can connect to some things so perfectly. Especially literature - books, blogs, quotes. You pick up a book, start reading it, start imagining the lead character as you, start observing small things or behave in a particular manner like people do in that book, things which were meaningless so far become a subject of deep introspection.

It happens with me a lot of times. I read books quite slowly. While reading, I usually get lost in the book. Midway I stop reading and start thinking as to what inspired the writer to write it that manner. Does he know anyone who is like this person in his novel? Had I been in his place, how I'd have written about that particular situation? And I end up spending days behind a book that can easily be finished in 2-3 days.

I do not call myself an avid, or to give it a more respectful term, voracious reader. I read a lot, but I am not a fan of what they call good literature. I enjoy reading trash fiction as much as I prefer to read an almost perfect piece of literature. Again quoting the same great person, "A bad book takes an equal amount of time to write." It's easy to diss anything, difficult is to write something, forget being good.

I have read different kinds of books - mostly fiction. Non-fiction never really fascinated me so much. I like to read about characters. The author who can write about his characters more than the story, I would blindly fall in love with him no matter how mediocre he or she would be. When I was young, people considered Ayn Rand to be the most amazing author. Today she is ridiculed so much everywhere. But to me, she still remains the most amazing writer. The way she defined her characters, I am yet to see anyone else with the same kind of powers to write about people.

Recently I read a couple of books which were like diary entries or about personal stories. According to me, to write about your personal experience and thoughts in an interesting manner and make that interesting requires special kind of talent. The most amazing thing was that I was continuously thinking about my blog while reading those books, how they have written in the similar manner. I don't write too well, but I can relate to them. How they can write the same thing in a novel material manner.

And while reading those books, I felt as if I was reading me. About me. By me. And still it was different. A kind of world that would exist in a parallel universe. Those books felt like home. My comfort space. Like a loose tshirt or a faded jacket, like a paijama that can barely hide your ankles but still feels perfect. You live with them while reading them, you miss them while reading something else, just how you compare other books to that one book. It's unfair to other books, but it's difficult not to draw parallels with your favourite one. I become almost human in this regards.

I used to keep each and every book that I read. I never returned them or gave them away. I did share my books with people who respected books, but not with everyone else. Many people never returned them after reading, many lost them too. The ones who lost them never got any other book from me. And today I did something I had never thought I would. I donated most of my collection books. And it felt good just thinking about the fact that many people would borrow them and read them. Those who cannot afford to buy those books, or do not simply want to spend their pocket money behind books they may not like so much.

Someone told me today that for her donating books are like donating your own organs. I'm not so attached to humans too, thus I never felt any such thing for books. But I couldn't donate them till now either. Maybe the idea didn't strike me at all. I decided last evening to donate, and did it today. And it felt amazing. Like doing your bit for the society. Ah I make myself sound so awesome.

PS: The quotes mentioned in this post are written by me.

Rejection

As usual an intense discussion about one topic with different people usually results into a blogpost. I met a friend a few days ago. She is around 8 years younger than me, but understands me better than most people of my age. We can discuss about every damn thing in this world philosophically, hypothetically, seriously and whatever other ways you could think of.

We usually meet at the same place, have same food/drinks mostly and talk about various things in the same manner. It was that very place where I had encouraged her to express her feelings for the guy she liked. After letting him know, she was too embarrassed to face him the next day. The guy ignored it as if nothing had happened and she realised that he was after all a jerk who couldn't even say no on her face.

We met again last week. She told me that it was a good thing to confess to your feelings to someone you like. But most of the times we are too scared to express what we feel. Because we cannot take rejection. What's the big deal if someone rejects you? How does it change anything about you? No I am not talking about some rocket science here, merely stating the obvious. Yet, it's that obvious we ignore because we are scared of this rejection even if it doesn't really affect our life. It does affect you if you let it. If you are going to feel depressed about rejection then you very well deserve it. Feel depressed if someone says yes, for it's going to take away your freedom, you know.

I have approached guys too. And I have been rejected too. I thought it would affect me, but it didn't. I'm still friends with them. In fact we are more comfortable with each other now. Right now at this stage I do not see them as my partner anymore. That's because of some reasons like preferences and circumstances. But I don't have the regret of not even expressing what I felt. I don't have to think about - I should have told him, how he would have reacted, how we would be right now and such jazz. Somewhere I'm glad that some said no. I do not picture us together now. All of us have changed with time. One of them said no to me because he was taken aback. After a few years he confessed to me that he did like me, but my step was too bold for him to take back then. No, I am not going to call him a jerk. That would be an insult to my temporary preference.

It's just plain stupid to keep quiet because you fear rejection. It has not yet resulted into one's death. People who claim to be shy are mostly the once who fear that they will get no as an answer. What's wrong with a no? If it turns out to be a yes, then wouldn't it be the best decision of your life at least for that moment? Learn to say what you feel. Life will be better that way.

Emotionally challenged

They saw me crying. And said that I was a very emotional person. But the truth was that I was crying because that comes easily to me. Just like laughing, or yawning, or not being funny and being extremely lame. I was crying, but I was not feeling as much as I was crying. And it has always been like that. I don't remember the last time I had broken down and felt as much as I cried. That's how I'm. Or that's how I show emotions, by not feeling any and yet crying.

I don't remember when I became like this. There has been a lot of disappointments, broken dreams, delusions, heartbreaks in life over years. People have different ways of dealing with such situations. Most become too emotional, beg of people to forgive them or get back to them, try to amend things in all possible manners, or simply detach oneself from everything/everyone else. These days I fall in the last category. Or maybe I have always been there. People keep telling me that I'm pretty strong after knowing my so called life story. They say that it's not so easy to face what I have done in such a short time. I say meh in my mind. It's not as difficult as you think it was or as easy as I make it sound, but I deal with things amazingly.

The best thing is, it has taught me to appreciate and love myself. Love will be a very strong word. If you ask me whom I love right now, I will not have any answer to it. Parents - no. I really care for them, like I would care for anyone I have stayed for the last 30 years. I can do anything for them. Is that what you call love? I can live without them. I might miss them, or maybe not. Will you still call it love?

For me, it's all about the attachment level. There was a time when I was attached to a few people so much that it used to scare me. I couldn't imagine my life without them. But like everything else, even people leave you. They left, or I left - depends on who is reading this, or whatever is good to your ego - but they were no longer around. And I was fine. And I'm not the only one. Most of the people are fine even after someone they love(?) a lot leaves. They go on living even though they claimed otherwise.

Someone I know used to tell me that he is a very cold person at heart towards people who have hurt him. I could never understand this. How can you be cold towards people? How can you not feel any emotion in your heart? But now I know what he meant. Now getting over someone is as easy as deleting everything that's there - pictures, e-mails, messages.

I never wanted to be here, but like everything else, I moved on too, from me. I have no idea when did this happen. I don't think anyone is responsible for this. I'm sure some people would be cursing me, some would be missing me, some would never want to see my face and such; but I don't care. I'm happy in my space. You were there when your time was right. Or wrong. It really doesn't matter.