When I picked you up for the first time, I wondered what you
were all about: what were those thoughts that remained hidden behind those pages,
readily offering themselves to be read; how much labor and how many hours had
gone into your making; how many schools of thought were imbibed in the pages; how
many pictures were lurking behind those words…
While I read you, I became oblivious to the other world
holding that piece of world, you. I came across novel ideas, words, thoughts
and theories; each one more immersing than the previous one. I learnt and
thanked the author and the world.
You always held a special place in my heart. I carried you
wherever I could, but never got tired of you. I would abhor anyone who would
ask for borrowing you.
Today when I picked you up once again, I smiled: such a
wonder of the world are you. It seemed as if you had your own story to tell: “She
was reading me when she was on the way to meet her crush; she would often carry
me in her bags; she used the purple- and blue-colored pens while studying me…”
You and I share a relation that no one can fathom, perhaps,
even visualize. So for you, who never refuses to teach, I thank the world.
-Kriti
Malhotra
