Learning and Loving to Read

I read, like it is breath to my being. I read because it is a mode for me to travel without bodily moving. I read because I have been blessed by my Creator. I read because I have been taught to appreciate the art of reading. I read because of my mother and I am thankful to her for inspiring me to read. Most people let it known in a loud and proud fashion that they do not read. They make it their facebook personal messages, they write that in sections that require you to fill out with names of favourite authors and novels. They are oh so sure, so very cocky, and so very arrogant not to have read. They exclaim, ‘oh books are so boring!’ and etcetera. I smile at them, I pity them but nothing I say will move them from their misconceived notion. Reading is something that should be learnt while growing up or at least during adolescence years. Once the opportunity is lost, it is like stopping a new rivulet to form which might have expanded into a river, it is like a life lost. I do not blame those who do not read, in fact I do not even condemn them the way they condemn us, those who read. I just wish that those who do read take some measures to try to make sure that new people are introduced into the world of reading. Reading, unlike watching a movie at a theatre, is very personal. You read alone and enter the world alone. You feel for the characters whether it be fiction or not, alone.

When I was quite young, I remember seeing my eldest brother read out comics to my younger brother. They would be engulfed by the mystery and adventure that came to life through reading them. Soon they started reading books that were not filled with colourful images and yet they seemed to be absorbed by the world laid wide in front of them when they read. I understood not what they felt, at least not till I turned 12 years old. My mother, meanwhile, tried various tactics to encourage me to read but the problem was that I never even gave it a try. It was not until I read David Copperfied in grade 5 Literature class that I became interested in reading for pleasure. Most, no wait, all of my class mates found David Copperfield, a great novel by Dickens, to be boring, gray and depressing. I admit it myself, that it was a bit depressing but I somehow found in that disheartening scenario the motivation to know more about everything. Through reading Dickens I learnt of a world quite unknown to me till then. Misery and depression, which until then meant for me to be sad about not having the permission to go and spend the day at my friend’s place, took a definite different meaning on my mind.

After reading David Copperfield for about 25 times, mostly for my personal pleasure and of course to do well at class, I shifted to reading another novel, ‘the Great Expectation’. However, for a girl of 12, the expectation was not fulfilled. Strangely enough I did not like or did not properly understand the book at that tender age. I was taken aback and was on the verge of reconsidering my newfound joy of reading. My mother intervened and steered me away from this tragic experience and introduced me to books specifically written for adolescent or pre adolescent girls like me. Hence, I started reading Nancy Drew by Carolyn Keene and romances by Barbara Cartland. I must admit that reading Nancy Drew and Cartland added a lot to the reason for me to stick to reading till now. If I had given up on reading at the early stage, the trimester, of reading life, perhaps I would never have become the avid book lover that I have become now.

The moral of the story is that, if you are a mother or father, fearing that your child might become a part of the mob who do not read and you feel like you are not doing enough to steer your child towards the infinite world that is open to them through reading, then just think of things and topics that will interest your child. You are their parents or guardians, there is no one else on earth who knows your children better then you. Do not deprive them of their right to knowledge that comes through reading, at least not if you can help them.

Books by Enid Blyton

Nancy Drew

The Hardy Boys

Books by Barbara Cartland

Oliver twist by Charles Dickens (I read this when I was 13 and I enjoyed it terribly)

My Family and other animals by Gerald Durrel (this is a hilarious story about Durrel’s own life. It involves animals, family and life in Greece.)

The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Advice- you might want to get an abridged one depending on the age of your child if it is a classic novel.

All the photographs included in this hub are photographs of books that I own.