Tuesday, 25 August 2015

#NostalgiaTale1 Becoming a Bibliophile



They say that habits are not made in a day. They have to be sowed, nurtured and loved; and then MAYBE they become something one day. Something like that happened to me. To begin with I had some amazing gardeners. My dad the book addict who could make up stories at a moment's notice. My mom who read a page of Faerie Queene by Edmund Spencer every night before I fell asleep. I would try to wrap my head around those strange, fanciful words and trying hard to keep up.

But I didn't really get the urge to read until the day my Nani (maternal grandmother) gifted me with my first book: Jack and the Beanstalk. It was a picture book, so mother would read the sentences and I would squeal out what the pictures were. I was three then.

Laughing at the little girl who doggedly begged him to read Jack and the Beanstalk with him continuously, my dad went and bought me a bunch of Akbar Birbal comic books along with my first Spider-Man comic book (my dad claims he bought that for himself but I begged him to read that to me and he had to give in).

But not all of my reading journey was magical and fascinating. My mom is proof of the struggle she had to take to teach me how to read. Now I was never a bad student, I was practically born a nerd; but teaching a four year old how to read is no piece of cake. But she id it! She IS one hell of an amazing woman, my mother. The first time I read a big proper word was one of her most joyous moments. I had picked up a Formula One magazine and read "racecourse" and she was so, so, so very proud of me. She kissed me and twirled me around the room and then went and bought me cake.

After that day, the world of words opened up for me. My dad kept spoiling me with books and my mom kept feeding me ideas to fuel my writing. And ever since then books and words have become an obsession, a kind of drug like euphoria to me. I think that maybe, if I didn't read so much I'd be a very different person. The way the words move me, make me feel things in my abdomen, make me cry or make me laugh is truly amazing.

And one day I hope my words move people...

Yours,
Zoe Summers

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