The dwindling young reader

On my way back home from school in a dingy van, I would often take out a book, and start reading. The journey in the van was like a vacuum the only time when my mind was not preoccupied with the mundane battles I had to fight at school or the lessons that awaited me on returning home. It was the ideal time to take out a novel and read.

I was 11, and had recently discovered Agatha Christie; it would set my pulse racing, and make a pleasant distraction from the sultriness of the days and the noisy bullies in the van. On the first day, as I was reading I noticed an uncanny silence in the van. I lifted my eyes and found every girl staring at me, one of them trying to figure out the title of the book. Their eyes were brimming with astonishment and as I like to imagine, the allure of seeing something mysterious. But when I looked back at them, they broke into a dismissive laughter. Apparently, they had never seen anyone reading before in the van.

Being a teenager who loves books( reading, buying, collecting and talking about them), I feel disappointed by the exoticism with which many young people perceive reading. Reading is as natural as breathing to me, and that's why I didn't realize that for many people in my milieu, taking extraordinary interests in books was bizarre.

Most Indian youngsters, on being asked which books have they read or are reading would give the following answers: The Da Vinci code, the Twilight series and everything written by Chetan Bhagat. Literary fiction is by and large unheard if and remains a unexplored territory. While there is nothing wrong in reading about Potter or vampires, why should young people restrict their choices to such narrow options?

 Looking back at the days when my reading habits would surround me by circus of curious students, I don't think things have changed much. Parents too would rather have their children study for the umpteen entrances, success in which would ensure a seat in a top professional college, rather than waste time reading novels , from which in their opinion little can be gained.

As long as teenagers do not openly express their love for reading, these irrational attitudes won't change and my generation will have to live with the label of being ignorant to the pleasure of reading and cherishing books.

When people ask me why I love reading, I run out of words. How do you explain something that is a natural occurrence? How do you explain your existence?
For me, books opened up a mysterious world, one that I couldn't help but fall into, one that saved me from myself. Words filled my days with laughter, stories kept my storms at bay, fictional characters became my best confidantes and pages filled my head with wonder.
Growing up friendless was a hard thing, so finding solace in reading wasn't surprising.

In a nutshell, BOOKS SAVED ME FROM MYSELF. Words ignited my soul and Reading consumed my very breath, I do not regret it