Today I settled aside the book I was reading currently and picked up the long awaited book I was striving to read for a long time. It is written by my favourite model and actor. Even the box I keep all my books in was judging for not eating it earlier. I ordered the book the it was on preorder, I have never done that. I believe to first go through the reviews thoroughly and then get it in my possession.
And as I started reading it I was stunned by the words it contained. It was not that I have never read any book such as that one or of that genre. It was simply magical. I even read the acknowledgements, which I was reading for the second time in my life for any book. The book is a fiction and is pretty much a normal story as any other are. I am reading, reading and reading neglecting the sounds in the background and at a certain point surely I was sucked in the book. Visualising the characters, plot lines and every scene from a corner. Strange, I always think I am in the corner of the room when I am deep in my own vision. Why don’t I ever get in the middle and get a 360 degree view?
And once I started to read it I was reluctant to put it down or even scratch my nose. I had this urge to first turn every page until the very end and then I will look at the world. The events unfolding page by page are so consuming that I bet only selected few of those pricks will set the book aside before they finish it. I literally took certain notes to write this as I didn’t wanted to lose these emotions. Honestly now I look on those notes and sigh in disappointment. I am horrible at taking notes. The fact that I was so consumed in the mystical world of the book I just wrote down some irrelevant lines and didn’t even bothered to check it.
Well, I don’t actually care what I wrote or what was the time or any other perfect scenario I missed. The fact that I was so stumped by this book and the emotions and flavours it sprouted in me is contentment in itself.