All that is romantic – Part I

From Broken 365 2010. "We grew up with these books"

From Broken 365 2010. “We grew up with these books”

When we were growing up, we found books , piles of them, lying around the house. That’s how we got introduced to the most beautiful things known to people. Throughout the day, whenever we were free, if my sister was not found to be climbing trees or the roof, my mother found us lying on the beds and the floors, reading, utterly oblivious to everything that was going around. When my brother came along, he got into the habit just as quickly as we did and it was the best thing the three of us did together. Just lying around , reading.

But it reminds me, we started so early because they were there. Because our parents had collected. Because we didn’t have to pick. We were too small. We read everything. And how wonderful each stumbled upon book was !

We used to do this thing, where the three of us would stand at the big old book shelf, staring at it’s content, pondering what to read next. Almost all the books in there are well worn out. But we’d stand there and pick one. That’s how we went through our parent’s book collection . We were made to find these books.

And now, in my late twenties, I read from a Kindle. Which was a wedding present. One heck of a wedding present ! I download books . I pick and choose. And while I love having it with me, I worry about how our kids will find their books. Don’t you just love picking up a book not knowing what it has inside just to be amazed ? I do. I still go to book shops and pick up books I had never heard of before. Just for the beauty of it.

When I got married, my father gave me a book cupboard, among a whole lot of other things. And I’ve decided to collect books the way we did before we found the Kindle. So that someday, our children can discover a whole new world. And they can marvel and be fascinated at the books their parents have read. Or not. It’s up to them really. But I just want them to find books.

The romantic things are dying. Almost dead .

The printed photo albums. The postcards. Everything our parents left us , are leaving us too.

It makes me sad. I wonder if our children will be unromantic. It makes me sad.

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