It felt like an eternity,
since the old yellow pages stuck to each other,
and the dust which resided between them started whirling around my head.
They refused to be separated from each other and I do not blame them.
Ten years to be left stranded was unforgivable.
I just sat there looking at the pile of books that surrounded me.
Not just any books but my worthy companions from my past.
Oh, what stories they told.
The tales of love and war, and the conundrums of life and death.
They rode a path from crime to passion,
and one from beliefs to myths.
The mystery and wonder they carry were always questionable,
yet appealed to young hearts such as myself.
My friends who stood with me through the darkest of times,
have abandoned me for almost ten years.
The old pages still carry a smell which takes me back
to the memories of life not so strangled.
A simpler time when problems were only a part of life and not life itself.
Trips down the memory lane always had a grasp.
Oh, how I’d read these books under the desk as the teacher scanned the class.
And whenever there was despair, how I’d lock myself in a room with them.
Hours at length and they never gave up on me.
So much they taught me and so much left to learn.
They make me recall the past when I had more friends- friends and not acquaintances.
People to whom I poured my heart out and who trusted me with their own,
And made me laugh and cry at the same time.
As I rumble through the pages, the music pounds in my ears.
The songs that warmed my heart back in the day.
It’s been a while since I paid them a visit too.
Connecting with myself was something unknown to me.
But still I miss the moments of solace with them, when tears dripped down my cheeks,
When I used to feel what I read, when my emotions came to surface.
And today I feel the same way after a very long time.
I wish they could hear me say how much I missed them.
In a strange way I realize now that my books have been a huge part of shaping me to be the man I am today.
Life is full of harsh realities and difficult situations,
And it helps to lose yourself sometimes in your desires and dreams.
Just living is not the purpose of life, but only a part of it.
Don’t just let your heart beat, but pace it.
And believe that there is all the magic in the world to make that happen.
Written by Tejas Mishra
Picture courtesy : Pruthvin Batham