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Friday, February 13, 2015


"How can you be friends with him ?   What has he to offer you... nothing !! ", said the friend.

He has.  He gives me his time.  His undivided attention.  When I want it.  Whenever I want it .  He doesn't promise to make my problems disappear.  I don't want him to either. My battles, my wars, are mine alone.  But sometimes,  I need a partner on my bench.   That is all I want from him.  That is all I seek from him.  And that is what I get from him.
Books !!

I love them.

I love holding a new book in my hand.

Eager to turn the pages.
Eager to be a part of the story.

I love the fragrance of the 'newness' of the book.

I love the audible 'crispness' of the pages.

Books !!

I love them.

I love that pirated copy, when budget restrains me.
I love that second hand copy too....

there is a fragrance to that aged copy too.

The occasional musty page,
the randomly marked lines... so important to the one who once held the book in his hands..long before me.

And most of all,

I love the little hand written inscription,
from the generous giver
to his loved one...
Keen, that the recipient
experience similar emotions,
Partake of similar joys..
I love being party to this intimate little conversation..

And they are strangers no more....
The warmth enveloping me too.