words Revathie Dhanabalan

I woke up today wondering about my books that I’ve collected over the years and how many I’ve truly read from page to page. Kind of apt since April is National Poetry Month and World Book Day is coming up soon. This will make sense in a while as you read through my chronological love affair with books and reading.

But you must note, my one goal in life is to have a wall filled with books from ceiling to floor. You can say it is reminiscent of Elinor’s house in Inkheart, where every room and hallway was brimming with books from all around the world - all unique and wonderful. Over the years, this fantastical dream of mine has shifted to a humble and slightly realistic option that one day might look a little like this:

As a child, books were a luxury when I needed them the most.

I was always reading. Enid Blyton was such a treat and the only exception that my mother purchased for her kids on her very tight budget. Holding a brand new book in my hands and breathing in that new page smell was a gift. In the early 90s, we were a low-middle income family, so buying books wasn’t usually on agenda. But one thing that I will forever be thankful for, is my mother’s persistence that we as kids, all needed to read. This was a luxury she couldn’t afford when she was younger. I think this may have led me down the path of becoming a book hoarder (I do blame her at times when I look at my overflowing stack of books).

As a young teen, books rescued me when thoughts felt dull.

My options grew and libraries became a wonderful escape. I was an awkward teen, trying to find my footing and figure out where I stood in this wide, wide world (everything did seem like a big and scary world back then). I discovered the joys of being a librarian as a kid (old at heart maybe) and Bukit Merah Community Library became my reading hole, where I encountered the likes of Sidney Sheldon on the second floor of the library. I know 90s babies can attest to this but neighbourhood libraries had this built-in nostalgic feel from the moment you step in. I even have that library card stuck in a little box of memories. Needless to say, that library and Sidney Sheldon were eye-openers for most of that period in my life and an unlikely welcoming phase as I became a full-fledged teenager.

As a teenager, books were my lifeline when the world felt closed off.

I studied at Outram Secondary School. I became a librarian of course and loved studying and reading in the library. I adored that library. It had these split areas to study and read. As you step through the entrance, you would see this staircase on the outside of the library leading up to the top floor. It wasn’t a big library filled with books for every child in school but they had created a truly welcoming open space that I did truly enjoy. It’s a space that I miss to this day. It was also the period when The Lord of the Rings (the books, not the movie) made its first appearance in my life, in that space, and I’ve been a LOTR girl since then.

But self-esteem was an all low at that stage of my life. I was an overweight Indian girl who couldn’t quite fit in with the rest. To tackle that I had decided to join Track and Field to lose weight, only to become a child with an eating disorder. I had to focus on Co-Curricular Activities (CCA) to get that extra credit to get into the diploma/polytechnic of my choice via JPAE. I didn’t learn to love my body but reading always remained that one constant for me but somewhere along the way, I stopped reading. O’Levels happened, my focus shifted and books were no longer my constant. As some would say, ‘life got in the way’ and libraries were a thing of the past.

As a young adult, books were stowed away when I needed them the most.

Clothes, appearance, money, and boys had become part of my life equation. Reading involved materials from my classes - stacks and stacks of reading materials along with time becoming harder to control. Reading books wasn’t part of my life equation but I still collected them and bought these books with pleasure. I was still a proud book hoarder. I still remembered my dream and made sure I travelled with my books even as I moved to another country for six years. Books stayed as part of my life but I stopped reading and enjoying all the stories these books held.

Now, as a 30-year-old, I question myself.

Why did I stop reading?

My life had become fuller yet stripped down at the same time. The lack of sleep, being overworked, constant distractions with social media, podcasts to reassess my life goals even Netflix had stripped down my life. Reading books had become such a challenging task for me. It took a pandemic and extensive time at home to reopen all those books I had hoarded since the beginning of time. I had realised even though my neglect of books or reading wasn’t permanent (courtesy of COVID-19), I had to make the conscious choice to read. It was as simple as that. There was no booming epiphany of sorts. I just had to choose to read.

It had taken me almost five years to get to a stage where I can read a book within two weeks. Another habit that I had to work on, similar to my journaling experience. Reading was such an experience growing up and it has defined me in so many different ways that I never knew till I penned down this blogpost.

So, what were some of your moments with reading and books that are etched into your memory?