A book is like a garden carried in the pocket. ~Chinese Proverb

I’ve never actually realised how many books I have until people commented on it. To me, it seems to be a normal amount of books..I mean, it would be abnormal if I have a library – you know convert a room into bookcases of writing materials, some comfy chairs and just-right-height side tables for coffee and drinks while reading with some nice comfy throws and cushions around (as you can see I’ve put this into thought before) but most of my books are scattered around. I admit I have three overflowing decent sized bookcases in the house – one filled with magazines (I never have the heart to throw them away..but then, I know I’m not going to read them again..maybe I should start recycling them) and two filled with fiction, non-fiction and thick fat medical textbooks.

I suppose you can call me a collector – I mean, I do love to read and I’ve been reading consistently for..I don’t know, decades? and I do have a habit of not finishing what I read or just lost interest in the story after some time. But my worse habit is buying books – I can’t help myself. I am the type that when I walk into a bookstore (second-hand, independent, chainstore, foreign language, online, eBay) must come out with a book – usually some obscure fiction but sometimes a bestseller (though I’ve learned from painful experiences, most of the bestsellers that I’ve attempted to read are NOT very good..plus, if a famous person recommends the book, well..it’s better to stay clear from it) and sometimes just something to say “I’ve been to this bookstore and yes I love it so much that I had to buy a book!”.

Books are one of those great comforts in life. I grew up being surrounded by books – my father has a stack of books from his studying times and lots of old ancient malay literature ones as well..I grew up reading classic malay history – the ones that you read about from our high school history lessons, we had them in print at home! My grandfather was a teacher as well with beautiful handwriting (he wrote excellent diaries which we all tried very hard to read) and my mother gave me her old English grammar textbooks from her time at the English Girl School to learn – unfortunately that didn’t go very well because until now, my grammar is just appalling.

Then it came to us three – the funny thing was my siblings and I all had similar reading styles except that my brother (who could and would read anything under the sun..that includes washing machine manuals) who read more fantasy and sci-fiction than us girls. When we all went overseas to study – we all came back with books. My sister being the traveller among us all, always came back with a book from a foreign country that she visited – and she always brought me one that I would just instantly fell in love it. My brother came back from America armoured with Harry Potter (though, he did accidentally left the 4th book in an airport somewhere in LA or NY) – which introduced me to the whole magical world of lining up for books and dressing up as wizards and witches. Of course the amount of books we had at home just keeps on piling. When I told my mom the amount of books I have in Melbourne, she instantly realized that what I’m trying to tell her is to install some floor to ceiling bookcases because my books are just A LOT.

We all learned to write our name in the books that we buy with a date and a place of where we bought it – my mom diligently thought us how to wrap our books – until now, all my textbooks are wrapped nicely. If I’m in a good mood -or trying to procrastinate-will start wrapping my fiction books as well..well, sometimes..haha.

Books? yes, I do have a lot and I’m sure I have more but others have borrowed it and made it their own but if someone were to ask between my shoes/bags/books which one I can’t live without?

It has to be my books.

Medicine for the soul.  – Inscription over the door of the Library at Thebes

Meddie B Avid Reader & Book Collector.

Published in: on January 29, 2011 at 1:11 pm  Comments (5)  

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5 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. […] Standard Lines January 30, 2011 by bariah A book is like a garden carried in the pocket. ~Chinese Proverb* […]

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