My mobile reading room

I love reading. I have always loved reading. I presume it is the happy fate of only children with older and busy parents and nomadic lives. I cannot remember a time when books were not a part of my life. Without them, I feel lost. Even today I have a pile of unread books as a security blanket. They are sustainment as well as therapy. In yore time, when I was still travelling I needed a couple of books in my hand luggage should one not fulfil the need of the moment and in spite of having them, I would also drop by the airport bookshop and pick one or two up. In communist Prague where we were posted in the 80s there were no English book shops so when I came home for a visit my main shopping consisted of books. Prague had one English library run by the British Embassy and within a year I had read every book they had.

I often read more than a book at a time. There is one at my bedside which is often a thriller and another lies on my office table and could be anything, from a serious book on Economics to the latest Booker or other Literary Price. It could even be a serious book on economics of social issues.  The first thing I read in a magazine is the book reviews and should one catch my fancy I am at the bookstore at opening time to buy it and if they have not received it yet, then to order it. I am not comfortable with on line bookstores and use them only when I cannot find the book I want.

My all time treat is to go to the bookstore and look at books, feel them, smell them and feast all my senses. Choosing a book is a sensuous experience, at least for me. The eyes get attracted by the look of the cover, the title that often echoes something familiar, then touching the book gratifies you in another way, its feel, its weight, its volume before you turn to the back cover and read the summary or the reviews before making a final decision. I normally go to one bookshop and the staff knows my taste by now. Soon after walking in numerous books are proffered and I find a place to sit and chose the ones I may buy keeping in mind the weight of the wallet. I linger on, chatting with the manager who has become a friend by now. I seem to have digressed from the topic I set out to write about: my reading room.

For the past few years now I have mastered the art of reading in my three wheeler. This at first was a coping strategy to taken on Delhi's nightmarish traffic. Lost in my book, I felt safe and was often surprised at how quickly I reached my destination. Those were the days when I travelled far more than today as I visited my various centres and went to meet people. All that changed when Ranjan fell   ill and my going out was terribly restricted. I felt I was missing something and it took me a while to realise that I missed my reading room a.k.a the three wheeler!

You may wonder why a person who lives in a huge rambling house with nooks and corners and all kind of seating options chooses to read in a three wheeler whatever the weather and notwithstanding the bumps. I guess once again this is a very precious and unique alone time that is a lifeline and an oxygen shot. So the recluse does take her time off in her mobile reading room everyday. The husband things I am a shopaholic as I need to find a reason to move and the answer to the where are you going is undoubtedly to the market. How does one say to anyone: I am off on my mobile reading room!