An Ode to Books

What is a world?

Without the pages bound together?

Without records of our happenings?

Without the clouds of fiction?

Running wild with the exuberant ideas,

Do writers give words to their thoughts.

Novels, poetry, or drama they put together,

Giving life to what only seems unreal.

Choosing one from the coutless choices,

Poses as quite the task.

Sitting down to live the story,

Through every word, you start to bask.

Dictionaries are an adventure to find words,

Comics are the ones to get away from the real world,

Guides and maps help you find your way,

While self help reads are what make you stay.

Every page is a new destination,

Every chapter is a new revelation,

Every end brings a thirst for more,

Every cliffhanger, you want to explore.

Every bad ending, you burst with rage.

Every book is a stage,

Every reader is a witness to it,

A one-on-one show, go savour it!

Think about it.

What is a world?

Without the text running along the pages?

Without these capsules of wit and wisdom?

Without a place for imagination?

Books are uniquely portable magic. ~Stephen King

Books are uniquely portable magic. ~Stephen King

In honour of today being World Book Day  =)

The Bookstore

Writing 101- A Room with a View

This post might sound like an excerpt taken off a chick-lit book, but it is rather the truth to answer the question of what place I would go to right now. Hope you can bear with me for the next 400 words or so!

The air laden with the scent of pages, books and the warmth, welcomes and rather draws me to step inside and start exploring. The light music that hits my ears acts as a backdrop to the endless rows of shelves awaiting to be discovered. The wooden floor clanks along with my footsteps, which are jagged, trying hard to decide which section to head to first. The section with the stacks of wrapping paper, wallpapers, binders, files, notebooks- leather-bound, spiral, scribble pads; ruled, unruled, makes my heart jump the most as I make my way to the aisle. The creative art supplies and wall hangings appeal to me in an uncanny manner, which suddenly makes me wonder how great it would be to be an artist. I pick up a bunch of markers, notebooks, and files that I just know will look perfect together sitting on my table once I get over with the long overdue clean up. Next, I head to the CDs of movies, music and TV shows imagining how life would be if it were a sitcom, or if I were the girl who played the lead role in the movie with the sun setting against the credits to a happy ending. Then there’s the library that stands, elaborately showing off the numerous genres and the array of novels, travelogues, guides, biographies and a whole other bunch of written riches. Taking all the time I need, I read the backs of several books, trying to choose wisely which one I would read, with earnest desire from cover to cover and the one which I would spend an entire day reading, caring for nothing else. Towards the end of my shopping spree, I always manage to swing by the children’s section of the toys, and interactive books entitled for 2-5 year olds. I somehow feel an exhilarating surge of pleasure to see the new board games in store and all the chubby little stuffed toys stacked up high. As I make my way to the cashier’s counter, the strategically placed candies and treats catch my eye, and I can never help but pick a couple of them and toss them into my basket. After the payment, a peep in to the bag of things that I can call mine now is the cherry on top.

My visits to the bookstore are remarked with such a feeling of satisfaction and happiness, that it definitely makes it to the list of places I would like to visit whenever, wherever, in whatever state.

Writing 101, Day 2

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