2020 Chapter I Section 5

I miss good conversations. About books.

One of my earliest memories is of vivid conversations about books. My paternal grandmother was a teacher and an avid reader. She was the one who made me fall in love with the art of reading. One thing I remember she told me, “don’t just read, talk about it”. Discussions and conversations about what we were reading were always encouraged.

At school, I always found someone who loved to read and talk about what they read. Of course, at the time I didn’t know, the cooler name for such activity was called a “Book Club”. I just knew I liked to read and I liked to talk about it.

I think the Harry Potter series was a blessing. More people started reading and discussing. During my 11th and 12th standards I used to have competitions with a friend, who can finish the new books first. Because, spoilers! I mean, of course!

I still have this particular friend in my life and we still talk about books and I am so grateful for that.

College was the time when I think I finally found people who truly appreciated conversations about books. I was pursuing my bachelor’s in English Literature and of course reading books was part of the requirement. I mean it was not really a rule but it was assumed a literature student would read.

I had a friend at the time who loved to read. I mean LOVED. We would spend hours discussing every mundane detail of life and what we read, what we felt when we read it and dissect every element of it. Ahh, those were the good old days.

My professors were also a big reason why I spent all my free time reading. They opened up my mind to new genres and new writers, names which were unknown to me before. I think I read a lot more in those 3 years of college than I have in the past 5 years.

This brings me to the current times. I still read. I still have a few conversations with friends or colleagues here and there. But, none satisfy the bookworm in me.

Work-life and laziness have taken over the adult life. A friend and I are admins to a Facebook book club where we are supposed to have many dialogues on books. But, we both are so engrossed with life and its many twists and turns, we barely make our presence felt there. (hey, at least we make sure the annual secret Santa gift exchange happens where gifts are exclusively only books)

I miss those days when I could simply sit with my grandmother or a friend and talk about why a certain character did what it did and what the writer must have been thinking when they used a certain word.

2017 Chapter X Section 12

Days: They are blending! 

The days are blending into each other, 

Twelve of them have passed, 

And, I didn't even realize, till now. 

I am sitting in my little chair, 

Mind wondering off to places, 

I have never been, 

I want to be. 

Waiting for the week to end, 

Yet, loving it so much, 

That I want it to slow down a bit, 

So, I can savor it a bit more! 

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: 4k steps
• Food: 
  • Breakfast: 2 boiled Eggs, 2 strips of bacon, 15 g shredded mozzarella chesse. 
  • Lunch: Bacon fat fried tenderloin steak with 10 g cheese. 
  • Snack: Raspberries 
  • Dinner: Cheesy Clam Chowder
• Study: Wanted to but fell asleep.
• Read: Finished "Murder on Orient Express", now started "And then there were none"! 
• Feeling: Like listening to more audio books! :D

2017 Chapter II Section 6

Reading & My Intelligence

When I was young, I used to read a lot. One of the main reasons being, I didn't have too many people to talk to.  Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't a loner, and I did have a lot of friends. But, somehow I wouldn't be able to relate to most of them. I also had a few bad years in my teenage life, that was mainly thanks to bullying at school. (more on that, in a future blog)

But, to be honest, I read because I loved to read. My maternal grandmother introduced us to reading and storytelling at a very young age. I distinctly remember her reading from books and making us understand what they meant. My parents also encouraged us a lot.

My sister did not pick up the habit of reading as much as I did. Obviously, as a child, I loved reading Enid Blyton, Roald Dahl, Agatha Christie and many more. I even remember that my parents had to build and get a few book shelves because soon I started running out of room to keep my books. 

Thanks to my grandmother, I used to love reading poetry. Though she introduced me to Bengali poetry, I slowly gravitated towards the English Language. I fortunately still have most of my books of poems. 

I remember I had a habit of walking around the room while reading poems. I do not know how or where I picked up this habit, but I still do this. I was also taught to read aloud. I try not to that now! :D

I never really had restrictions on what I could read. So, I remember when I was around ten years old, I had read Preludes by T.S.Eliot. (yes, the original poem, not an abridged version) I am pretty sure; I did not understand the deep meaning of the poem at the time. But, it struck a chord. I wanted to do my P.h.D in English Literature and concentrate on Eliot. 

[That did not happen, unfortunately, but since then, I have read a lot more of Eliot and have discovered many other brilliant poets.]

So, reading to me was my way of feeling alive. I say 'was,' because I think I do not value the art of reading as much as I did when I was younger. 

As I have mentioned before, I was bullied at school. I was 13 when it had started, and it only stopped once I left that school at 15. I had become very depressed at the time, and I used to bury myself in books. 

I remember I was 12 when my father gifted Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban to me. At the time, I had never even heard of Harry Potter. 

I stayed up all night and finished the book. I remember crying. I remember my heart feeling stronger. I also realised I wanted to read more about Harry. [The Harry Potter series holds a special place in my heart. I will talk about HP and my life in a later blog; there is so much to talk about on this topic.]

That year, like every other year, I took my pocket money and my parents to the Kolkata Book Fair and bought the first two books of the series. 

Book Fair was my favourite time of the year. It was my pilgrimage. I would take every rupee I had saved and buy everything my heart desired. My parents would also chip in, of course. I used to come back with bags of books from various genres. According to my father, they were meant to last the year, but I would end up reading them in a few week's time. After that, I would patiently wait for people to lend me books or gift them for my birthday or other occasions. For me, my paternal aunt's house used to be Mecca. Her husband loved to read, and he had a huge collection of books. He was always kind enough to lend or gift me dozens of books. I miss those more innocent and happier times.

So, as you must have figured out by now, I love to read. Or, I would say loved to. I remember loving the quiet time I used to get while reading. Everyone in my family knew not to disturb me while I read. 

I think now YouTube has replaced my love for reading which is rather sad as I feel a little stupider than before. I do not know if there is any truth to it, but the less I read, the dumber I feel. 

I have been trying to cut down on my 'watching junk on my laptop' time, but have been so unsuccessful!!! I want to read at least one book a week this year, and so far it has been a disaster. Like everything in my life I started off well and did finish my quota of books in January but then I fell sick, and now I have become extra lazy! Now, I just sit for hours and watch mindless vlogs! Why why why!! And, some of the things I have started watching make me question my sanity!  -_-

Where have the good old days gone? Or at least the good old me! I remember in college; I had a reading challenge with my friend. She used to claim to read fast and a lot. I did not believe her, and she refused to believe I read a lot. So, over the summer holidays after our first year at college, we decided to read as much as we could. We even had to devise a way to check the actual number of books we read! (yes, I think we might have been nerds! :D) 

My final number was around 33. She refused to count the Manga and other comic books I had read (unfair, they are books too). Otherwise, the number would have been higher. Also, I had decided that was the best time to read The Lord of the Rings and those books are thick, and they take time! Anyway, in the end, I just remember being a much happier person. And, since our numbers were very close, we had called a truce. She is pursuing her P.h.D. in the English language, so I guess she has beaten me in the numbers department now! 

Wow, I wrote a lot more than I had anticipated. I do still love to read. But, I have become lazier, and there are more things to distract me now. As I told you before, I feel there is a connection between my increasing/diminishing intelligence and the number of books I read.

I do need to start getting myself back in the habit of reading! Imaginary or not, I need to get back that feeling of 'not feeling stupid' and reading books always helped me to do that.  

Read more, Arunima! Your brain needs it. 

Tata! 

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: Weights
• Food:
  • Breakfast: None
  • Lunch: Rice, Mixed Veggie, Fish
  • Snack: Pav Bhaji, Mishti
  • Dinner: Dal, Rice
• Study: Stanford
• Read: A Clash of Kings
• Feeling: Nostalgic. Remembering all the good times when I used to read books. 

2017 Chapter I Section 31

One Habit, Two Habit & Three: First Month of Blogging! 

I have always loved to write. I find it being the best way to express myself. I am sadly not the most skilled at it, but I try. 

One of the things, I wanted to do this year was to read and write more. I do read a lot in general, be it articles, blogs, new papers or something very general. I read books too. I used to read a lot more, but I still try to finish a book every few weeks. I want to increase those numbers, though. 

But, writing was something I was not doing at all. Maybe it's something I like to believe in, or maybe there might be some real truth to it, but I feel when I write more, I am more aware and feel smarter. 

I do not know if that makes sense or not but when I write I feel like my brain opens up, I can feel my pupils dilating as if it is ready to absorb more from the universe than it normally does. I do not exactly know how to convey it to you, but I just feel more alive. 

I have always loved writing. I do not like to talk much. I mean to most people. I have my selected bunch of people I would like to have a phone or one on one conversation with and with the rest I would rather message or chat. 

I sometimes feel quite lucky that I live in the technological era that I do because emailing and messaging systems have made this anxiety-driven person a lot more social than she could have hoped to be. 

So, basically, I am saying that writing is my outlet for my thoughts. Everyone needs an outlet, and this is mine. I do not like to divulge much of my life to others. But, through writing, I feel I get the feeling of sharing and so the need to reveal my secrets also go away. 

When I was young, I used to write in my diary, but since I have developed Fibromyalgia, the task of physically writing has been quite difficult. I do send occasional emails to the self, but in general, I haven't really 'talked to myself' in a long while. (I do believe we should all have more conversations with the self so we can learn to filter a few unnecessary things we say aloud to others.)

This New Years when everyone was busy with their celebrations and resolutions, I decided I have to promise to talk to me more or at least to express my thoughts more. Now, my outlets are few and most I do not like. Also, I wanted to hold myself accountable and what's a better way than to write on a social platform.

I know hardly anyone reads my blog, but the fact that I have convinced my brain that every day I need to write about something or the other, that I need to think more, has led me to do that exact thing. 

I honestly have enjoyed writing every day this month, and this has become sort of a habit now. Barring the few days when I was very sick, I have made it a point to take some time off each day from everything, sit down and write. 

I am happy I have been able to write almost every day of the month. I have noticed because writing has become such a habit; it has started affecting my other habits too. I love to follow my routine of exercises, food, reading, and studying. 

I know for a while I was not well enough to do any of it. And, knowing my health issues, there might be more days like that. But, I have noticed a positive change in my mindset. I now feel bad when I miss out something. And, instead of dismissing it or finding excuses for missing out on something I want to do. I just simply find a way to make sure I do it or at least find an alternative. 

I am positive that one good habit can permeate to create other good ones. I look forward to them, and I look forward to writing what's on my mind every single day this year! 

Thank you, stranger, for reading! :) 

Tata! 

TODAY'S CHECKLIST:

• Exercise: 1944 steps 
• Food:
  • Breakfast: None (Woke up late, still haven't been to fix my sleep pattern)
  • Lunch: Rice, Rajma, Cauliflower and Potato Curry
  • Snack: French Toast
  • Dinner: Soup
• Study: Stanford
• Read: None
• Feeling: Happy! Tonsils hurt but rest seem to be working.