Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Like the Old Times

So I did it; last night, I took a book and read. I just sat in my bed and turned the pages; taking in the story by the chapter and I was just so transfixed on the words that it felt like I was in the characters' world and not my own. I did not look up nor did I glance at my phone. I laughed at the crude lines in the story, and it was a good laugh as I delight in those light-hearted moments. Then I cried; oh yes, my tears fell when the protagonist was broken hearted and my heart went out to her. My heart swooned then it felt like it sank to the bottom at the lowest point of the protagonist's emotion. My heart went in a cycle of ups and downs as it trailed the storyline; probably better than any cardiovascular exercise. But in all, I just went on reading and reading; and it was not long before I realized, I had done the unspeakable - I had finished the entire book in an hour and a half or probably two!

It's not like I've never done it before, oh yes, I am a master in my reading speed; never mind the thickness of the book. I just get immersed so much that I no longer feel the world around me but the world where I am falling into in the leaves of the pages. I used to read books so quickly, that I run out of reading materials and had to re-read them again. (My dad told me he'd run out of money to keep getting me new books, with reading speed like mine - obviously, that was a joke).

So yeah, I have done it again, but it was such a long time ago that I can't even recall when was the last time I finished reading a book that soon. I have read many great books, definitely, and they do keep me awake with the pages turning and turning but, it has been such a long time that I have let myself get carried away by reading. It is not about the book alone; but rather, the comfort of reading which enveloped me as I was curled up on my bed that it just kept me going until the end of the book in what started off as an initial brief bedtime reading before I drift to sleep.
You see, I was down with a cold and it was bad; been bugging me for the past three days after I got back from my short trip (probably infected by my traveling company). I felt tired half the time, and I am sure you know about the cold symptoms and them cold medicine which just makes me feel so drowsy that I just want to hit the softness of the feathered pillows at every chance I get. As it so happens, I woke up after a short nap and after taking my dinner and medication, I picked up my book (it's an old book which I intend to re-read) and started reading. I read, read, and I read....
It felt like the old times, really, when I was just a little girl; you could always (almost all the time) find my nose buried in a book. I was never without a book; and it is usually a pretty thick one too. I just love books that much. In fact, nothing excites me more than given the time/free pass to read my books and I could finish a book easily in an hour or two. Of course, as I grew older, the time span to finish a book somehow just grew exponentially due to other commitments such as assignments/projects due for submission, work, and social life. In fact, as I am progressing more into my career, I could hardly find time to pick up a book, let alone read (I don't even have much time to sleep actually) and that has even begun to bother me, but that will be another topic. So there, I can't believe I still had it in me that I could still read like I was only three or five...and it delights me so much that I smiled. Not just a tiny smile that formed, but a satisfied wide grin and I silently pat myself on the head. It feels good, like time just stood still in my reading world, and I am so amazed that the smile just came from the heart. It felt like an the old times....perhaps the age didn't matter, after all?

Alright, now that's a bit too much to hope for....back to reality...

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