Friday

"Friday" a term that rates nothing less than "jannat" in a normal middle east tortured employee's life. But for a bored house wife who does not have much to look forward to, it would have been just another day. But no, the clutches of a friday is so long you actually cannot escape.

A week day for me begins with a usual fight between my inner "yin and yang" well yin wants me to get up from my bed, go out and run while yang tells me you don't have anything to do today so you can sleep till noon that way, you will be bored for lesser hours, i believe all of us know who will win that fight on most of the days. But since sleeping till noon and skipping meals followed by sleepless nights was actually creating health problems, i decided to let yin win for some days. 

So a day when yin wins usually go about like this, i get up, i look out of my window, see the wide roads and compare them with the road in front of my house back in thrissur and wonder if it is two lane or single lane and i sigh, then i look at the people dressed smartly heading out to their offices, i think about my non existent career, i sigh, so after so many sighs like this i move on to treadmill (or go out on days i can drag out myself) and i run. I run thinking about every negative point in my life, i sigh even more ( see this is exactly what yang tells me, sleep and save yourself all this trouble). Then a couple of phone calls, books and meals, my day ends. Then i again go to my window look at the traffic and wonder where all these people are going, imagine some dad's coming back and mom's cooking in my head and i go back to sleep. 

So what can possibly change on a friday in such a boring routine? It begins right in the morning when i look out of my window, nobody is rushing off to work, all are sleeping because it is a holiday, then i go out to run, nobody else is out there running or walking, all are sleeping because it is a holiday. Then i come back and i am sad because i have not seen any freaking human being since i woke up. And that kicks off my friday depression. 

The next torture of friday begins when i figure out, i cannot make any phone calls today because either people are sleeping or they have better things to do. So i am not only deprived of seeing another human being but also hearing a human voice. I move to my regular job site and puff!!!! empty, not even house maid requirement adds come up on friday and i realise i am probably the only one browsing net on a weekend morning. Then i open fb, it is either people celebrating weekends (in middle east) or people gearing up for weekend (back home) and i realize i don't have a week to have a weekend. 

So i reach the height of Friday depression by that and i read read and read more so as to escape the world outside the book i am reading. So by night, i end up with no food in kitchen and no strength to actually get up and cook. Oh yes, you got it right, i order home delivery (the only part of my friday routine i actually like :) ). I eat i look out of my window and see the friday night traffic blocks and i wonder where all these people are going, i magine people having fun with their friends and family taking a break from their monotonous life and i go back to bed. So there goes my weekend routine. I am actually proud to say that i have a week and i have a weekend now.  May be boring but it is mine :).

Why do i read ?

I know, a question is not a good title but this is exactly the thought that forced me to write this. When i say thought, i do not mean my thought. I know why i read or at-least i know why i can't stop reading but the title in question was voiced by many people around me.

Before i start answering i should tell you where i heard this for the first time. It was one of those elaborate two month summer holidays in grand ma's home where i spend it with books, dreams and talking to myself. Please don't think i had a terrible childhood reading this, trust me it was a great one (thanks to the world books opened for me). So in one of those event less days when i feasted on books ignoring basics like eating, taking bath etc, my mom asked me this. why do u read so much? Of course i was not old enough to challenge her asking for an alternative nor i was i farsighted to see she was just the first in a long line. But i did think why do i read? and the little me could only understand one thing i love stories and since books have so many of them, i read.

But later on, when i realized reading was a hobby that was getting lost in this generation, i started to wonder how did i start reading? My first memories of reading were of my grand mother, sitting on the big wooden chair in the front of our house, tilting her angle to meet sun and reading with large spectacles that covered half her face. When i first remember her reading old malayalam novels rented from a library of a parallel college near our house, (i used to get books for her from there). Then i saw my dad reading in the evenings after work. He rented from his office library. As time went on both these people gave me books which they thought were suitable for me. And slowly reading became a habit. Later on, my granny's reading reduced to magazines and later only to news papers but mine grew, i used to talk to her about all those different books i read when i could and to my dad, i used to buy books for him whenever i could. So that is how i started reading. Thanks to my achan and amuma. :)

So when time went on, my parents n grand parents influence on me reduced considerably. I became one of those rebellious teenagers stuck to tv (computer came later on and internet came further late). But again books never left me. I borrowed from friends and relatives as english books were totally absent in my home and i read malayalam books from my two old sources. So every time a vacation approached, i would run around here and there to find enough material to cover the holidays.

Then i reached my college days and it was from there i actually got the idea of buying books. But then i realized as a normal middle class girl from a government college i cannot actually afford to buy enough books to satisfy my thirst to read. But in college i found more people who actually liked reading and were nice enough to share it with me.so i had enough books at that stage of my life. Later on i found this place in the road side in our little town i found my treasure  There were these vendors who sold pirated copies of books at a cheaper rate. And yes from then on, i really started buying books to read.

Life went on, i kept reading through my success, through my depressions, through my loneliness, in the middle of our gang discussion, i kept reading and books evolved from a story teller to a companion to a friend and later on to become my soul mate. I became a college student employee wife, daughter in law, house wife and my reading evolved from comics to fiction to literature, biography , philosophy and so on.

Reading is like breathing for me, when i am away from a book i feel nervous. Even in the loneliest of the phases of life a book has given me company and told me don't worry i am there for you. When i was in doubt, a book gave me answers, when i thought less of myself, books told me i am worth more.

So my dear friends, at this point, i would like to request all of you to introduce your children to books. Of all the things you give them, of all the values you teach them, this will be the best gift and best morale that will guide them through life. I would like to thank my grandma and my dad for doing this for me and all those street vendors who actually made it possible for me to read.