Just read it!

I recall myself penning down "Books are our friends" essay during my school days. I feel writing it again.

Books bring with them love, compassion, wit, humor, hatred and what not. They take us to a new world away from our predicaments. They teach us to hope, to persevere, to sustain. I find solace, peace with books. Whenever I am depressed, I long for their company...and always get comforted with them.

Once during my summer vacations, I was at my grandfather's house. As usual, I searched his cupboard for an unread book. And I found an old tattered but hard-bound edition of The red hibiscus. I was so moved by it that eventually I burst into tears. It was a story about a bengali girl and her maid. Their lives were extremes, each one had their own impediments to cross. But they had this peculiar thing in common, they both liked to put a red hibiscus in the hair. Such a simple story but emotionally touching.

Another one worth mentioning is the eye-watering The kite runner by an american-afghan, Khaled Hosseini. I read this book on a cosy sofa in an air conditioned hall...in Crosswords! ...thanks to its unavailability at the street vendors. I really would like to extend my warm regards to these guys...who have saved a lot of money for me over these years.

And then my favorite ....Shantaram. This is the best one so far. Though the publisher has selected the minutest of the fonts, the author has claimed his supremacy on the paper. He makes you feel his torments, his passion, his apprehension. I was amazed with his observation of Mumbai city. He creates that sense of visualization....which many books lack.

There are lots of books to talk about, The sands of time, The monk who sold his ferrari, The namesake, The Afghan, Five point someone, The inscrutable americans and many many more.
How can I forget my own marathi literature. I have read dozens of english translated marathi novels too....one of them is Lajja by Taslima Nasreen. The language could vary....but the impact remains the same. Maharashtrians are fond of Pu La Deshpande. He creates an inevitable humor, but it is has a tinge of black comedy. So much was this literary genius loved that when he passed away, many of his fans including my mother actually cried.

I cannot imagine myself in a bookless world. This is the most altruistic invention of mankind for mankind.