Long Road Out of Exile

".......It was books that made me feel,

          That perhaps I was not completely alone.
                   They could be honest with me,        

                              and I with them........"

                                             - William Herondale

“So what you are trying to tell me is that you stopped reading and writing because someone told you that it may interfere with your scientific paper writing?”

“Yes” I replied.

“That is the most stupid thing I’ve heard. And does this person know what it means to you?”

“Probably not. I mean I try to be honest with him and I trust him completely, but no he’s probably not aware of the therapeutic effects it has on me, both reading and writing.”

“Then I’ll correct myself. Because then it makes you a stupid person to have heed to an advice which doesn’t stand true to you.”

There was an interruption as a fellow senior colleague and friend came up to him and asked him, “Sir, the tea is ready, shall we serve it here?” **

“Yes”.

He took a sip from his tea. “Okay so where was I? Yes, reading of course. See I took a class on addiction yesterday, right? Now, when fictional book reading becomes an addiction, then you have something to worry about. When do you call it as an addiction? It is when reading interferes with your daily activity and at the expense of your work productivity. Is that how it is for you?

I can’t say so. It has never interfered with my work.

“Before you stopped reading how many books did you used to read?”

“May be one- one and half, in two months. Of course it was much higher during my masters and even more during my degree and High School period. I used to finish a book every 3 days. May be 2 in a week.You can call it addiction, Sir, but to me that was happiness.”

“I’m not calling it an addiction. I’m just wondering what damage has it done to your brain because you stopped reading. Tell me, has your productivity increased? Has your rate of scientific publishing increased?

“Umm. No. Not entirely. If anything it has made me feel extremely restless.”

“Yes. That is because the sub-conscious of your mind knows that it was a wrong decision. See you don’t have to read a fiction or non-fiction, or whatever you like, every other day. But once in two months is absolutely fine. And if anyone tells you otherwise, then they are ignorant.”

I smiled.

“No I’m serious. They may have the best interest in their heart for you but still it is a ridiculous advice since everyone is different and everybody have their own intake capacity. What reading means to you, may not be the same for him. You said ‘reading is therapeutic for you? It may not be so deep for him. For him it may be trivial, petty pleasure, but for you it may be something more profound, something more pertinent.”

“Sir, I’m aware he has the best interest for me. And it was only an advice. But I worry whether it was the correct decision on my part by paying heed to it?

“Yes, that’s what disappointed me the most. Not the advice but the fact that you followed it.”

He was quiet for about half a minute, gazing at the incoming crowd of scholars and budding researchers. The tea break was almost over and the participants were re-gathering for the pre-lunch session.

He resumed. “I remember you said on the first day, that you read Salinger. Is that correct?”

 I nodded.

“Now tell me what did you understand from it, what was your inference?”

“It’s a book with depth. It’s about the deepest darkest feelings of human mind and bringing them to light and finding solace or finding that one thing worth living for, worth fighting for. It’s about finding peace with yourself and within yourself.”

He looked at me for a moment. “See not everyone has the heart and mind and the depth to fathom Salinger’s writing. Yes it’s one of mine favorite book too. And it seems it has made an impression on you?

“Yes. You can say it compelled me to question mine decision to stop reading” I said with an apologetic grin.

“That’s what good books do. They expand your horizon, enrich your imagination and makes you think. Always makes you think. I think we should get back to the class I need to start the session……”

Sometime later that evening after the Valedictory function of the Workshop*** I caught up to him again.

“Sir, do you write? Do you have a blog that I could follow?”

He looked at me and it seemed to me he had lost the thread of the discussion we had earlier.

He replied, slowly, “I don’t get much time to write in my blog anymore. But yes it’s in Malayalam so I’m afraid you won’t understand much although I think you said you can read Malayalam.”

I smiled and nodded.

“Didn’t you tell me you stopped writing?”

I nodded again, this time a little embarrassed (possibly ashamed).

“Tell me what do you write? Stories? Poems?”

“Mostly non-fiction but sometimes stories and poems as well, depending on mood.”

“So why is it that you write? What makes you write?”

I looked up, surprised, a little taken aback and ended up smiling as the question took me back five years into my past, as those recurring cliches do, when a good friend of mine had asked this exact same question. Funny enough, I gave almost the same answer as I had given her all those years ago.

“Because I have to; because I need to get it out of my system; because if I don’t it, invariably, eats up me up from inside.”

He smiled.

“Then do yourself a favor and don’t stop writing.”

He was leaving, but before doing so he looked at me and the last thing he said was, “and give yourself some credit. In a world full of pessimists, you dared to be an optimist and yet wise enough to call yourself a realist….”

..............................................................................................................................................

Of course hindsight is a very powerful tool that we can use in our life. Especially because I didn't make out much of all that talk. When I think back to remember all that was said, what he said to me, it does seem like, what was said,  must have taken like an hour. But in reality it was hardly anymore than 7-8 minutes at best. 

I probably should have made out more from it than I did in reality.

It took me 3 more months to really understand what he meant. And I had been alone for a few days, reading another book (only one since Salinger's Caulfield) when it dawned on me the meaning of what he said.

I guess what he tried to tell me and what I ultimately realized from all that was- too much of something is never good. But giving up on something, (not illegal or harmful to you or others), that actually makes you happy, is almost a crime you commit unto yourself.  ☺️

And yes, since then I have been writing again. Not blogging that much unfortunately and in any case I don't think I ever had too many readers, and even fewer now, who'd still like to read what I have to say. 😜

Note- If there are book lovers out there who love reading books and are searching for something meaningful, something with quality then I would suggest A Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. It's a classic, but not your regular, conventional classic. If you've already read then you know what I mean(t) and I'm proud of you. Growing up, as a teenager there have been a few fictional characters that have influenced me. But I've never read about anyone with a soul as conflicted, unnecessarily brash and broken as Holden Caulfield, more so because he's only 18! Nevertheless I won't spoil the story for potential readers.

** 'He' in this post is an eminent scientist of CMFRI. And I wish him a very happy retired life. And may be someday we will see your library in person.

*** The event was a Workshop that I had attended in July, 2018.

"If a body catch a body, coming through the rye......"