This goes as far as when she was six years or eight years there about.. Form when she learnt to read. She read the word USA not as abbreviations but "usa". Her earliest memories with this love of her life are the ones she holds dearest...
It was raining outside... the kind of rain that sends little girls in the village running for shelter and the young boys eager to get a mud puddle so that they can slide in it and afterwards get a beating... But not her. All she wants is to go to the outside toilet. She learnt a new word for it.. its the latrine... Its clean... Often she goes inside while her cat waits outside for her to finish her business. Today its raining and she cant wait to go to the latrine.. This latrine is her special place. She connects with the past and etches images of the future in her little mind. She sees her mothers handwriting the her past books hang on the wall as "toilet paper". She imagines her.. A proud schoolteacher, an avid reader, a beautiful woman plucked from the world at her prime.She reads her stories and some words she cant understand but she finds them beautiful. She loves the smell of both the pages of the books, old newspapers and anything with ink from a pen. Her young mind drinks from it eagerly
She reads newspapers and is filled with awe... She fails to understand why America is fighting in middle east.She does not understand the distant lands and the famous people but words... words fascinate her. She travels the wold back and forth untill she realises she has kept the cat waiting outside for too long, the rain has long stopped and her business is finished.
That is how she began her love for books.
No comments:
Post a Comment