Ever so often, whatever medium channels our learning becomes a revered " Teacher". I always considered books as a personal space for learning and growth. But something new and fresh changed this mode of perception as well. Books now are not on an imaginary didactic pedestal for me, rather they have become companions and friends, where no compulsion reigns on liking a particular story or finishing it through to the end. It is now a portal for exchange of worlds, mine along with the story's. We are equals and undivided, books as human as my soul and body. Their frail pages and scents, the odor of their spines and its molded edges remind me of the frailty and familiarity of my own human body.
With each new day and with every new act of reading, definitions crumble only to form a mosaic of words and thoughts that end up as nameless and without any need of labels.
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