I no longer live with my family in Bombay, but I hope someday soon, I will once again. I left home on a job, in a moment of rebellion, in a moment where I wanted to discover myself. It was the wisest decision I have ever made. The love, the respect, the gratitude I have for my family today…would not have been otherwise.
One of the things my sister and I love doing now is catching up on stories long gone. Every few months, we spend an unplanned hour, giggling through incidents from a childhood gone by.
My sister, like all younger sisters, loved looking for ways to get me into trouble. Either I had spent too much time on the phone, or too much time staring out of the window, or hadn’t helped her put away the toys. One day, she decided to tattle to my mother about my late-into-the-night reading habit. Much to her dismay, my mother was pleased. “Reading is a good habit,” mother said. “Let G read.”
When my sister recounted this incident to me, I was amused but wistful. So, then is when
it all began…
My love for books. The sneaking a story book under a study book. The reading into the morning.
It was all encouraged.
And, here I was taking it for granted.
This Tuesday therefore, I decided to come home and curl up with a book. Before I hit the gym for a yoga class, and before I decided to cook a spicy chicken curry for dinner. Even before I decided to plunge into bed, under soft Jaipuri blankets…I pulled out my book. Sudha Murthy’s ‘Wise and Otherwise.’ I spent an evening reading a selection of her columns on lessons from every day life.
It was incredible to be able to do such a simple thing all over again. And, then there’s so much you can learn from a book…unsung joys, and little lessons, and new people, and unfamiliar cultures, and warm fuzzy love, and sweet sorrow and injustice, and new places you want to visit. All in one evening.