So, when did the books find me? Though my memory is fairly strong, it lets me down here. I have to guess, and guessing has always been woven into the fabric of my life. Maybe it was 1957 when I was nine years old. Dad had taken us to a far-off bookstore—the closest one you could find in those days. And publishers? I had no idea. Were there any? Our friends from Britain had left us in this state. Most of the books were printed in England. We got *Grimm's Fairy Tales* and *Ripley's Believe It or Not*. Yes, we couldn't believe it! The books contained unusual stories and images in snippet form. They were interesting to read, but nothing worth keeping in mind. *Grimm's Fairy Tales*, being fairy tales, was filled with unbelievable stories. Much later, when I wanted to buy them for my grandkids, I read reviews saying these tales were filled with violence. I’ll have to check that out someday.

Then came the classics. A few illustrated classics like Jules Verne's *Journey to the Moon*—I hope I got the title right. And the popular books of those days: *Treasure Island*, *Robinson Crusoe*, *Robin Hood*, *Great Expectations*, *David Copperfield*, *Gulliver's Travels*, and so on. Incidentally, one could learn English language and grammar just by reading these books. *Journey to the Centre of the Earth* was another absorbing story. Yet, I was particularly fond of *The Pickwick Papers*.

Of course, as a routine for Tamilians, there were a few Tamil magazines, and I used to read all of them. My favorite was *Kalkandu*, which had tidbits of information from all over the world and occasional stories. Every magazine had at least a couple of serialized stories—very interesting ones. I do miss the story-writers of those days. Each episode would end in suspense, and we had to wait a week to find out what happened next. Many families, after the serial ended—perhaps five years or even later—would tear out the relevant pages of the story from the saved magazines and bind them nicely into a book. These collections were in high demand among friends and relatives.

And the Diwali editions were very special—nice, colorful, glossy, with lots of pictures of gods and goddesses covered with butter paper. They were always in short supply and highly sought after. They were treasures to cherish. All these magazines, and especially the annual Diwali edition, used to have lots of jokes, often illustrated and sometimes full-page. One couldn't help but laugh. It was the age of humor. Whatever happened to it?

These magazines were quite thick and packed with information besides jokes and stories. But sixty years later, they appear famished and soulless, like they have been struck by drought. What a pity!

I must have read these magazines until around the 1990s. Then, with my wavering vision—I mean sight—and lack of time, I gave them up.

To be continued... 13. Bookishly Speaking - Part 3