Wednesday, January 12, 2011


I clearly remember it was a Friday afternoon a few years ago, and like any good student I was supposed to be studying. That's what we usually did back then. I had a few pages left of the novel I was reading, so I was greatly tempted to finish it. As a general rule, I don't read when I'm supposed to study because the feeling of guilt doesn't make reading as enjoyable as it should be. For that particular situation however, I chose to read. The book was too tempting so I decided against studying, and I chose to finish it. It wasn't a very hard decision to make, and no one was around to catch me reading when I was supposed to be studying.
I just sat reading, wishing the book would never end. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. The author made you lose all hope, and just as you started to despair, flickers of happiness are waiting for you.
There's nothing, and I repeat nothing like a well written classic to take you to another time and place. Getting lost in the words and the beautiful language. Is there any better feeling in the world? Just about to finish a novel, not wanting it to end, wanting the best for the characters you love for a dose of hope, and simply letting the events take its course. Finishing the book, and not wanting to pick another because you know nothing will top it. You dwell on it for a day, and then give in to the itchy feeling that demands you to start another book and belong to it fully.


PS: If you're interested in the book I mentioned, it was North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. I never mentioned it here so here I am.

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