Today is celebrated as World Book Day in some countries. A day we celebrate books and the joy they bring in our lives. I, for one, have always enjoyed books. I was into reading from a very young age. As a four year old I carried around a dark blue Saudi airline bag in which were my most treasured possessions - paper, pencil and books. Not much has changed in 34 years. Except the bag, thankfully!
Reading is one thing which has remained a constant in my life. While growing up we didn't have a lot of money to go into a bookstore and walk out with an armful of books. We were only allowed to buy one or, maximum, two books in six months. Usually our books were passed down to us by older cousins and uncles. I vividly recall how once, on my birthday, my father bought me two Nancy Drew novels. They cost Rs. 100 and I still remember he asked me numerous times if I'll read the books and keep them safely. It took some convincing before I became the proud owner of two spanking new Nancy Drew books. AND I still have them.
My mother introduced me to Enid Blyton, Charles Dickens and Roald Dahl. But some books I found by chance. The Far Pavilions, I found tucked in between the many Mills & Boons my mother owned. Similarly while browsing through our bookshelf I stumbled on Alistair Maclean (this must be around 1997). Some of the books I love the most are those which I've come across accidentally. Brideshead Revisited is one of those books. I just happened to see it at the old book stall in Karachi a few years back and bought it because I liked the cover. That is how I also discovered Graham Greene. I started reading Maugham when I came across a quote of his on writing. Let's just say I've been lucky.
Not all books and authors I like have been accidental discoveries. A cousin of mine recommended Garcia Marquez (2002). A college acquaintance lent me Rebecca which started my obsession with Daphne du Maurier (1998). Another college friend introduced me to LOTR. I still remember her sitting in the college bus, with the thick volume in her hands, her black nail colours providing a perfect contrast to the green cover. Likewise, I read War and Peace when I saw it in the bookshelf of a friend at university (2006). This friend didn't have many books on her shelf so I gathered that the few she has must be really good and so I decided to take a chance with Tolstoy.
Most of the Urdu novels I read during my teens were from my grandfather's collection. It was my maternal Uncle who introduced me to the magical world of Tilsm Hoshruba and Amir Hamza. Something I am eternally grateful to him for.
I don't know how I became such an avid reader. Can it be genetic because I've heard my paternal grandfather was massively fond of reading. Growing up I've seen books around me. There were always books in my grandparents' house and often in the hot afternoons, I found my grandmother curled up on the divan with an Urdu digest. Whoever knew of my hobby of reading either gifted me a book or lent me one. Maybe that made me come to love books so much? I don't know. What I do know is that I can't imagine a life without books and reading.
On this World Book Day I want to make a wish. A wish that my children develop a love for books too. That they find joy, solace, laughter, refuge, inspiration and gratitude in the pages they read. They better - because I have a very long list waiting for them!
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