I like the room. It’s small, it’s closed and gives me space. I block the sounds out, the faces and the rest out, and try to read.
Reading, a thing that I used to like, but have lesser and lesser time to do of late. Reading used to be a hobby till I started studying law, now it has become a need, but with not much time to practice. I think it is that time of evolution of reading, and whatever else I wish I could be doing, but barely get the time to do anymore. Singing I liked, which I stopped for a good year and a half to avoid someone’s looks, and then which I am unable to do anymore since I have lost my voice. I think life takes away things that you have not much use for, or something like that I guess. Whoever up there, who decides what each person gets dished out must have thought, this woman does not sing anymore, so why bother letting her have a singing voice. So yep, that could be one weird theory of why I lost my voice.
Anyways back to that notion called reading.
I remember reading as a teenager finishing one novel on my way to Colombo and then reading another heading back home. My father used to take me to Gamini Hall, the second-hand book shops, by which I walked to catch the train every Saturday and Sunday, and by which I pass today in a rush, heading to court or trying to register a company. But I never make a stop anymore. I do stop in front of it, but walk into the company registrar, turning my back on those small shops in which I used to spend a lot of time in the past, turning pages that had turn yellow, and books that looked less used, and sold to the vendor being stolen from school libraries.
Life has changed a lot, a kid, a lot of law to read, and a lot of mails to be sent. I type random rants, on life and things that matter, to me of course, though I am not sure of their universal application to others.
Then again, who cares? It’s my blog, and I type. I am glad I do type, it keeps my sanity which hangs by a thread, intact.
Atleast for the time being.