Who found whom? Did books choose me, or did I choose them? Neither. It just happened. It was bound to because it was ordained.

Ever since my childhood, I don’t know if I was fond of studying or coming out on top of the class. But reading, yes! What is the difference? This thought always churned in my muddled gray cells. As I aged, I realized I could read just about anything and even assimilate it—only if there was no compulsion to sit for an exam. Concentrating on some subjects like History, Civics, Geography, and Science was well past my limited abilities. I read them because I had to.

English, Math, and later Accounting, Finance, Banking, Management, Law, and Economics—supposedly boring subjects for some—became part of my blood chemistry and my personal history. No, I was not a great exponent or scholar in these fields, but I loved them and absorbed them with a certain euphoric satisfaction.

And, as it happens with many, history, geography, and even science eventually drew me in. At the ripe age of over 70, I started listening to science podcasts, though I hadn't read many books. At one stage, I bought lots of books on history and historical fiction. So, the moral is: while in school, never think you are reading just to pass a test, but to enjoy it. It is easy for me to say this because I am in the final leg of this wonderful journey along an unknown path, but what of those in their first leg?

Was I born to read books? No way. At the age of 5, I had glasses with a power of -7, heavier than my whole face. I almost had to lie down on the books or practically press them against my glasses just to read. But God had His own ways. Books and I became partners for life.

During some of the worst and best times of my life, books were the ones—apart from my family—that provided solace. If I was depressed, I would read a book. If I was happy, I would read a book. If I was worried, I would read a book.

Yet, there were periods when we ditched each other, like a part-time divorce. From 1960 to 1965, I was drifting aimlessly, dreaming of joining a top college without putting my mind to my studies. To do what? Not study? Or later, wandering unhappily through the sunbaked streets of Madras in search of a job.

Or after being posted to a rural branch where it was difficult to find even a chemist's shop, post office, eatery, or doctor, let alone a library. Who had money to buy books? But this gave me an opportunity to learn without reading—the rural life, agriculture, motorcycle driving, camaraderie, innocence, the simple ways of life, and, of course, survival.

To be continued... 12. Bookishly speaking - Part 2