Book Lover vs Book Worm

Growing up, I do not have much memories of wanting or loving books. I don't even remember being a young reader, passionate about books. In short, I didn't read much growing up.

But I remember Hensel and Gretel.

That was the first story book I received as present from my late father. Can't remember now why I got it as present. But I treasured the book. I kept it for years however lost it while in transition to being adult.

Library.

That's how (technically, where) I get to love reading.

I was sixteen.

During the days when we didn't have extra curricular activities after school, dad would sent me to the library and spent my time there waiting for him to finish work and collect me two and half hours later.

It was burdening in the beginning cos I was supposed to go there and study.

So to kill time, I would study the first half to an hour and do shelves browsing the remaining time. Most of the time, I ended up chilling on the sofa at the magazine section.

Then came the final term before the big exam.

Spent more time at the library of course. With a twist. A guy in the picture. One that I had crush with. He loved browsing the novel section which eventually led yours truly wandering at the same section. Ha! Kerja buduh.

But.

There's good in that.

And you guessed correctly.

I started to read books. Well, novels precisely.

Still!

That guy is history.

But the reading continues.

Bagus juga kan pigi library?

My reading habit keep growing as I enrolled in Uni. Apa lagi bila ada room mate that was crazily in love with reading. Every night mesti baca buku before bed. Lucky thing, it impacted on me so much.

I would borrowed her books at first. It then escalated to me borrowing books from the library. I remember doing a book literature review on Danielle Steel's The Ring that I borrowed from the Uni library. It got me an A! Not because it was a best seller book nor my grammar was perfect. I believe, it's the way the story absorbed into my mind that I was able to deliver the review in such a way, my lecturer loved it. Mangkali lah...

Back to present time...

I am picking up reading again.

I only read THREE books last year. Much better compared to the year before; one.

Why the need to accomplish a certain quantity of books?

Why read?

This is funny, but I find my imagination is getting dull in recent years.

I find myself rolled eyes at love stories.

I feel my ears blocked at sad songs.

I sense my heart froze listening to happy endings.

I feel myself getting cold to the many emotions around me except the one i have for my daughter.

Despite the many things that have been happening, i'm sensing my soul is slowly emptied. Ok that's too personal to dig in for now. But yeah, i feel the need to read to fill up that hollowness. I need someone's colorful narratives to fill up my head. I want someone's perspective on life to water my drying soul. I just need to feel again. Anything.

And then the final bell came when one day I realized how I could sorta listen to books calling out to me whenever I see postings of book/s on Instagram.

So i set a target.

Twelve books at the end of this year. At least.

Currently finishing my 6th book.

How has 6 books changed me in span of three months?

I thirst for more.

More stories. More varieties. More characters. More colors. More emotions.

Not much.

But it is better than before 6 books read.