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Is Reading a Dying Art?

Ruchira agonises about the decline of reading habit and shares the joy of reading. A Different Truths exclusive.

Ever since the ancient Egyptians had begun inscribing all available knowledge on papyrus strips, the practice of reading has been an integral part of  diverse  human civilizations and cultures that flourished across the globe at various  points of time.  With the passage of centuries, the number of subjects grew, as did the number of books on each. Mankind brought forth countless books on numerous branches of science, philosophy, history, political science, mathematics, logic, theology, music, geography and what have you. As the years passed, single books grew into volumes and anthologies. The subsequent appearance of the printing press, publishing houses, (not forgetting book binding) and libraries created an entire new world whose pivot point was the Book. A new genre of professional translators emerged, to help established authors to garner popularity, fame .and yes, even immortality in the long run.  To cut a long story short, reading became sine qua non of human existence and society.

Personally speaking, I was indeed fortunate to have been born in a family where reading was a highly pleasurable pastime, albeit an addictive one. While I was growing up there was no internet; television had made its appearance, but few households boasted of owning one. Consequently, available means of recreation were narrowed down to cinema, gramophone and books. I vividly recall how, while I was still a toddler, the bulk of my gifts (on various occasions) comprised  picture books, nursery rhymes, and comics galore. In primary school I read illustrated versions of the Ramayana and Mahabharata alongside Biblestories for children, moving on to Legends of Greece & Rome. Next came Hans Anderson’s & Grimm’s Fairy tales. They made me what I am today: Imaginative and fanciful.  The famous children’s author Enid Blyton also left an indelible imprint on my mind. A huge collection of her stories still line my book case.  As I moved on in life I dabbled in crime fiction-chiefly works of Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Poe.     

Both my parents had been avid readers. I still remember how my mother spent her precious leisure hours reading novels, short stories and humorous literature. My banker father, on the other hand, devoured books on philosophy, autobiographies of famous personalities, not forgetting English and European classics in translation. By the time I was an adolescent,  Zola, Flaubert, Tolstoy, Gogol, Chekov and Pushkin were household names for me. Their works jostled for space on our bookshelves along with the magnum opus of Somerset Maugham, Dickens, T.S Eliot, Yeats, and P.G Wodehouse – possibly the world’s greatest humorist.  There was also a rich collection of Bengali literature –Tagore, Sarat Chandra, Bankim Chandra, Bibhuti Bhushan (of Pather Panchali fame) – in our mini library. Though my parents have since, gone to a better world, yet I cherish and zealously guard the entire collection, which was bequeathed to me. I plan to do so till my dying breath.

However, the times they’re changing. The advent of the internet has virtually sounded the death-knell of book-reading. CDs are replacing private collections of  folks. Many titles are available online. Yes, people now read on laptops, desktops and Kindle. When a friend of mine described how her son voraciously read book after book on Kindle during his daily jogging routine, I nearly jumped out of my skin!  Closer home, the husband, a techie, seldom reads anything beyond his technical books; his sources bulk of information from the Internet. Ditto for my daughter, a medical professional. However, I successfully cajoled (read goaded her into reading a few famous classics). She thoroughly enjoyed the experience and thanks me for my  efforts!  Many visitors to our home stare at my collection and pose a stereotyped question: Itni saari  kitabey aapne padh rakhi hai?(have you read all of them?) An awkward moment for me!  Some friendly neighbourhood women ask: Yeh sari course  ki kitabey hain kya? (are these text books?)  I am left tongue-tied!

Over the years, throughout my adult life, I have spent more on books than on jewellery, fashions, and others commodities which capture women’s fancies. My most favourite spot under the sun is inside a book store, where one can leisurely browse one title after another.

Yes, I am horribly retrograde in this context. Not for me, the scientific advancements and technical breakthroughs so far as reading is concerned. The very sight of a books sets my pulse racing, I love the smell of fresh paper and ink emanating from the piles of books in a bookshop. All I want is a comfortable chair in well-lit room, so that I can read, and dream a little while doing so; as the overturned book nestles on my lap my mind soars high to a realm of fantasy, away from the crass realities of this mundane world…  

©Ruchira Adhikari Ghosh

Photos from the Internet

#ReadingHabits #DeclineOfReading #LoveToRead #Books #SliceOfLife #DifferentTruths

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Ruchira Adhikari Ghosh
Born in Guwahati Assam, Ruchira grew up in Delhi and Punjab. A product of Sacred Heart Convent, Ludhiana, she holds a Master’s degree in English Literature from Punjab University, Chandigarh. Armed with a P.G diploma in journalism in Journalism, she has been a pen-pusher for nearly 25 years. Her chequered career encompasses print, web, as well as television. She has metamorphosed as a feature writer, her forte being women’s issues, food, travel and literature.

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