Tag Archives: love for reading

I am a Reader!?

I am pretty sure that many of you here will be book readers, so much so that reading would be an inseparable part of your life. Yes, I’d say that too, that I love reading books, I love to get lost in an imaginary world. But today I read something which shook my beliefs, that I was or am a book reader.

So I say that I read books, but how many, which ones? There are so many books and which ones do I pick?

I know the quantity does not matter, the quality does, but wait till you read this..

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What do you say now? 😀

I am not much of a calculative person, but I am pretty sure that I am not reading since I was 5, I sometimes take more than a week to complete a book, and what more? I might not even live to be 80.

So I don’t even read 1% of fiction, non-fiction that is available to me and I call myself a reader?

Bookish Problems!

All my close friends and the some of the followers here know that I am a big time book nerd, reading being my escape from reality. But my nerd problems extent to a deeper level this week. I share here some pictures of my oh-so-consistent trouble. (Courtesy to google)

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But I dozed off at 300 pages 😦

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Do you think you would be able to live without breathing? DUH!

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Escape Reality!!!!

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I sure have, many times:-D

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I can marry only them with my whole heart 😀

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I already am 😦

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I could really use that money….

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Every single time!!!!

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I mean did I ask you? Did I borrow your money for those books?  Am I occupying your space for those book? Those are my babies, I can have as many as I want 😀

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I wish I could have more respect for tomorrow.

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I definitely would.. Because I would win every single time..

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Oh yeah, baby!!

Do any of you relate to this? Or am I the only one trying to escape reality, living in a fantasy land where I have… Well, everything that I want.

The Nudging Guilt!

Monday morning- a normal day would be somewhat like….. Well, you know how it would be. But an abnormal and unanticipated Monday morning was what I had today.

It was a Monday morning, when I wake up at a time when you hardly can wish someone a ‘good morning’, when you are almost touching noon; a morning when I simply avoid work for no reason, a morning when I ignore my bundled up projects, and do not even give any heed to my college assignments; a morning when I am in no hurry despite being so late.

I sit and smile on my bed, for no explicit reason. Life hasn’t changed overnight, it is just what it was yesterday and I am just as tired dealing with it. But I don’t even want to deal with it now. I am simply breathing.

I go out for my morning cup of coffee, strolling in the cool and nonchalant weather outside. The rains from last night have kept the climate lovable and I relish every second of it, every micro second of it. I do not have my phone with me; I don’t even look at anyone only to avoid any sort of conversation, I am simply conscious, conscious of the fact that I am here, alive, and breathing.

Even the barista gives me a vague look observing me in my shorts, with the messed up hair, and that lingering look in my eyes. But I do not care.

I am simply breathing 😉

I return home, cancel all my plans, no work, no studies, no stress.

I go to the porch, sit on the bean bag and grab a book which I am yearning to read.

And then I am lost!

This was of course a perfect setting, the only, and the only single thing that kept fretting my mind, and which I kept dodging again and again was the constant nudging guilt; the guilt to disregard my work, the guilt to even overlook the projects, the assignments which have kept piling up. I have already missed my deadlines, I was already struggling, juggling to keep up, and yet here I was sitting and reading. Time was short but the work load kept piling up and despite being aware of it, I wasted the entire day. Not only did I brush-off my schedule, I kept propelling away that guilt too.

And at the end of the day, I don’t even regret it. I savoured the day of simply breathing, simply living.

Just, just the problem was that-constant-nudging-guilt!!

New Home.

It has been long since I have written anything and I promise to come back with something as soon as I get time from the chores that I really don’t enjoy doing 😉

But this post is to inform all my readers that I am shifting to a new home, a new web address which is- https://aestheticmiradh.com/

I am not much of a web master here, and will really appreciate any kind of help from fellow bloggers. So do let me know if anything is wrong with my website currently.

I will learn things slowly, but I definitely will,  so just be patient readers and fellow bloggers 🙂

Thank you so much for your constant support.

A Man With The Mask

Happy, ecstatic, joyous, exuberant, there is just no one word to define the feeling when someone special is going to take you out on a date.

And to make the occasion extra special I go to extreme terms and dress up just for him. With a little bit of lipstick, a red dress, and a pair of high heels I am ready right on time. Of course I’ll be ready on time, if I’d be preparing for hours. Restless, I check the windows for any sign of his car, the phone for any texts. And just a few minutes later a horn blows off, and I am pretty sure it’s him.

Hiding behind the curtains, I take a glimpse, confirming that it’s him. Then, composing myself I go to the door to welcome him. Out of habit, I look through the peep hole.

It is not him. There is no one.

The doorbell rings again, constantly.

It is definitely not him.

I look through it again. And I fall back a couple of steps, trying to hold onto something, to be stable. I have never seen such a creature in my life. There is a lean, bony man outside, looking right at me, right at that tiny hole, making his face larger. He is smiling at it, smiling cunningly. He has a dark complexion, with weird teeth, and ears too big for any human face. He is wearing a black mask. He is laughing; I can hear it through the sound proof door. And just when I gulp down the saliva from my mouth, he starts banging on the door, laughing, and screaming, ‘I am going to get you.”

I double lock the door, rush to the windows and lock them too. I run to my room, locking the balcony, bolting every possible door and window, increasing the claustrophobia within. The air grows thick; I am sweaty, unable to breathe, shivering with fear and rage. Doubt and apprehension fill my mind.

Where is he?

Who is this creature?

What is going on?

What am I supposed to do?

I rush to grab my phone, and somehow the battery is drained, wasn’t it charged about 80%, right before he was to come?

The landline is dead.

And then the power goes off.

The next thing I know is I am in my bed, hardly breathing, craving for some air, my mouth is dry, and the mascara from my eyes has spread beyond my pink cheeks. I lay quite, befriending silence, trying to listen to any sound.  I have one arm under the pillow, shivering, holding a small gun, when I hear footsteps.

It couldn’t be.

I locked everything.

The shadow neared.

And my terror augmented.

Any thought of the date, a someone special, was nowhere in my mind now.

And then that lean, dark and bony creature entered my room.

His laugh sent shivers down me, and all my mind could think of was “Why me?”

The mask was not my illusion; it was a confirmation, the only common link among all the recent rape cases in the town, of all the women who were raped and murdered. He was the same man, the man with the mask!

He was a serial killer.

In my house?

Our eyes met, and he bent to grab my legs.

I kicked and waved with all my might, tears stinging my eyes. I got up, grabbed the blanket and covered my body, and with the other hand, I held the gun, pointing right at him.

Only it was not a gun. Instead it was a bed side lamp.

Only, there was no serial killer in my room, there was no one.

Only, I had been dreaming, dreaming the plot of the book that I am currently reading.

All sweaty, and craving for some air, I put down the lamp silently, and yet hesitated to open the windows. My mouth went dry at the mere thought of the dream. Sure, it was just a dream but I had seen it too closely.

I gulped down a glass of water, splashing some onto my face and went back to bed not daring to go outside, not wanting to even take a peek outside, till the sun came up.

 

PS: Currently reading,  ‘A Thin Dark Line’ by Tami Hoag.

Diwali Preparation

As much as I love the festivities, I hate the preparations now, right after my hectic travelling and the burden of my work and studies. And yet, I could not have been avoiding it for long, so Diwali right around the corner, I had to get going with it latest by today. And the only part about the unwanted cleaning that I liked today was getting to go through my book collection and soft toys. As I do not have a proper place to keep my books, I have it stacked at my study table and every other place, but I love them all the same.

So here are some of my lovelies-

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PS: I have always loved Noddy 😉

My Sister’s Keeper

Warning: I might end up discussing the story of the book too.

I was reading, so that I could kill my time, I was reading so that I could have a Sunday on a Monday, I was reading so that I could find out what actually happens to Anna, what about Kate? Will she live? Will she die? How is the family going to take it? How will Sara react when she finds out that her own daughter files a case against her and her husband, Brian? What is wrong with Jesse, their oldest son? What kind of chemistry do Campbell and Julia share, and what exactly is Judge, the dog for?

My sister’s keeper by Jodi Picoult has all the answers to it, and I was on the verge of finding them. Hardly did I know that by then I will be left shattered, once again. I really have lost count how many times a simple book has done that to me by now.

Devouring the last few pages of the book, digging my nails into the covers of the book, I realised that I was almost crying, at least on the verge of. I was battling hard to even breathe by now.

I mean, what, how, when, why???

It is then, that I realised that we have absolutely no control of our lives, we may think, we have, but no, we do not have even a grasp over it. I felt like a mere puppet playing the so called game, life.

We think we can control our lives, but all we have is a most shallow form of control, a simple interpretation of life, when in reality it is far more intense with lot many twists and turns which we can never in our rarest dreams anticipate.

Kate was the one suffering with some sort of cancer, Anna was the once conceived to donate her organs to her sister, then how come this end to a story?

The book is simply about Anna fighting for herself, but in the end what happens is really what I did not expect.

I kept the book aside, pages fluttering with the air, the ceiling fan really creaking down on me, and there I slept with the small lamp switched on, for the lightest hope to cling on to.