Bookish Whispers.....

The journey of the wanderlust vagabond in me took off with the monthly magazine Chandamama. It was with this book I began my first step to the land of fantasies. It opened a window to a wondrous world of magic, mystery, wild imagination, legendary icons, love, battle. In that world, I was never alone. I had lots of princes, princesses, kings, queens, soldiers, magicians and many others around me. I used to dream of a huge palace under the sea, and would imagine a handsome prince coming out of the sky to whisk me away. I used to think of myself as a fairy or a mermaid. I was intrigued, induced and influenced. It was there I fell in love with Karna. It was there I was attracted to the deep passion of Shiva, and the playful naughtiness of Krishna.

I slowly stepped ahead to the land of Amar Chitra Kathas. There I met many legends, and they surrounded me with their valour and wisdom. I became Jhansi Rani, Uloopi, Vasavadatta, Amarapali, and who not!!! I took part in various battles, and was a witness to many a love affair. The epics were simplified, and mythological characters got life. Again there was Karna who used to tempt me.

I treaded further. I used to have crosses made of broomsticks under my pillow to ward off Count Dracula. Walking further, I met Enid Blyton and Hardy boys. Somehow I was not lured by those famous five and secret seven. I was after Frank and Joe Hardy. I travelled with them, solved many cases, and envisioned myself as a detective. I learned never to lose my nerve ever...

During my teens, the romantic in me peeped out. I was surrounded by M&Bs and Harlequins. Charlotte Lamb and Danielle Steele lured me into their lives. I started to dream. I was floating through the lives of many, and was waiting for a lived happily ever after life. It was about at the same time I met Tess. I went with her to meet Mrs d’Urberville, I cried with her when she buried Sorrow. I waited with her for her Angel, and was with her when she murdered Alec. Tess was my stepping stone to the land of classics. I religiously followed Charles Dickens. Estella sounded like a sweet song. I was waiting my chance to stab Scrooge. I became a hardcore fan of Pappilion, empathised with Scarlett O Hara, and made The Thorn Birds my Bible. Sidney Sheldon and Irving Wallace haunted me. Robert Ludlum tramped on my nights. Jane Austen persuaded me to Northanger Abbey and Mansfield park. I wanted to kick Darcy many a times. Then came Jane. The sweet Jane Eyre. Rochester was, is, and will be a dream. I used to feel jealous when Jane went to Rochester’s room. When his bedsheet caught fire, I remember reaching there before Jane. There was a fire inside me too. Then came Alex Hailey to change me altogether. Me, an introvert, who never looked at anyone’s face, who never used to talk to any relatives, started looking out for them to patch up the distance. But having already labelled me as arrogant and proud, they were reluctant to come near me. It took me years to become one among them.

There are many, many more, who came in and went out from my life. Being an only child, books and authors were always my best friends. I literally lived on words. I moved from one page to another. They made me observe the human mind. I tasted a lot, devoured many, chewed some, and digested a few. It comforted and consoled me. I travelled all over the real and imaginary world without even a single step. They made me laugh, they made me cry. They made me tensed, they made me calm. They made me talk with the dead, and live with the unreal. They gave me space to fold myself inside their pages. And I live, folded, breathing the words, waiting... for more..................