Sunday, June 13, 2010

It suddenly becomes cold, you fall sick. By mistake you take an overdose of citrezen and you are think the best thing to do is to get under that thick rajhai that suddenly feels warm like her arms and you get tucked under it.

You realize you are only delusional and not sleepy. Watching tv is bad. Reading is bad as well...but perhaps less badder. You pick up this book given by a equally delusional person.
I am not much of a book critic. I read cause I like to. You read some books, and some books take you through the reading at their own pace. You cannot skip thru the lines, nor pages, nor words.
With lines like

a walk on a lonley night, and a meeting with the spirts, of the botteled kind
or this

Dear old Dehra : I may stop loving you, but I wont’ stop loving the days I loved you
Ruskin Bond's description of flowers, the savoy bar, the hill side and the calls of the local birds makes even the sweat running through your body go in slow motion. The eye lids close much slower, the clock seems to stop and you never realize when the book ends.
Its books like these that one should give and get as presents. Its books like these, that one should have in their book shelf, and read it every now and then.