They lie in the same place as I had left them 6 years ago
before leaving for the Capital City to pursue my career. Today, after many
years, as I turn the pages removing the dust that had settled over them with
the passage of time, I transport back to the time I had spent as a student and
more importantly replay my childhood.
I revisit those lost moments, when I used to spend countless
nights solving the problem that gave me sleepless nights. I find that term in
the science book, which took me three days to pronounce and three months to
memorize. I find that wonderfully written summary of a literary piece by my
English teacher. I also find the ‘redo’ term written with the red ink by my
maths school teacher; his big rounded eyes made me scare as he used to look at
me giving that angry gaze above those heavy spectacles.
A smell catches my nose and I sneeze. Oh! It’s the leaf,
which I had put in between the pages of my Income Tax book as a token of
blessing from goddesses Saraswati. The leaf has now dried up and has turned
into tiny bits of green leftovers and along with it the blessings have
disappeared.
That page of Hindi book that once got burnt a bit due to my
negligence in lighting the candle reminds me of the scolding that I got from my
mother. I feel like a child when I found my Class 3 notebook with a stained
mark of the ‘daal’ that I spilled over while trying to have my dinner with my
hand and studying at the same time. The smell is no more, but yes the memory,
it still etched fresh in my mind.
Such are the beauty of books. Time passes and an era goes
by, but a book, it always stores back the moment you have spent with it.
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