Besides writing and playing video games, reading has arguably been one of the biggest constants in my everyday life. No, I am not talking about school books, but about literature – real literature. This story is about how it all began. As any other kid, the only books I used to read were moral stories disguised Read more…

When I think of my love for printed treasures, I am instantly taken back to the time when my mother would sit me down with a glass of hot Bournvita milk on a cool rainy afternoon and hand me a storybook. She would sit beside me with a book of her own. The feeling, the Read more…

As part of the armed forces, my father was always posted in different parts of the country. Our vacations involved going sightseeing at the place he was stationed. However, I still (fondly) remember the vacation that made me a reader. It happened when I was thirteen. My dad had taken us to his family home, Read more…

The first story I ever read was when I was in tenth grade. We had been asked to read Gulliver’s Travels and pen down our views about its characters, among other things. Until then, I had never read a book – other than my textbooks, I mean. My parents or teachers had never actually encouraged Read more…

I am an out-and-out bibliophile; I even love the smell of books. I started reading at a very young age. Maybe it was something I learned from my father. Looking back, I still remember the times when I and my brother went out to buy vada or some other snack from the street vendors or Read more…

Books play a major role in our lives. Some people realize this at an early age, whereas others – like me – do it later. I feel that books can be a great source of both joy and motivation. They sharpen the brain, bring down stress levels, and even alleviate depression or negativity. As a Read more…

Back in tenth grade, the one thing I absolutely abhorred was reading. In fact, I even wondered how reading could be regarded as a real hobby. My dad, who happened to be a bibliophile, would often argue with me that books could boost my analytical skills. However, more often than not, his words would fall Read more…

“Mom, come on! We’re getting late, let’s go!” screamed a seven-year-old me at the top of her lungs, eager to get to her painting class. My younger brother stood beside me, surprisingly patient. Both of us were waiting for our mother to come downstairs. “I’m coming guys, hold on a minute. You know it’s not Read more…

An over-analyzer! Yes, that was me a few years ago. Like most people my age, I too had grown up with the ambition to work in a metro city. Once the right opportunity came along, I moved to a cosmopolitan city from my tiny village. It was boom! Everything seemed new – a new work Read more…

It was the month of July. I was travelling from Jaipur, Rajasthan to Chennai for an international cultural integration camp by train. The train journey usually took three days and four nights. As most Indians would agree, spending three days in a sleeper coach of Indian Railways is no mean feat. To add to your Read more…