I have always loved the act of reading. But why? What does it make one feel? As I write this, I must mention that I am reading a very simple yet frabjous novel by John Boyne called ‘Stay where you are and then leave’. Like every reader , I started to think beyond the text and finally ended up thinking about “how do you read?”
Reading is similar to breathing. Very simple yet a significant involuntary action that is required to sustain the existence of any living thing. I imagined words penetrating to the brain with the eyes as a medium, like the air that you breathe, it takes the similar route , down to your lungs and fills it up. These letters, individually are similar to the atoms that are present in the air. Once they occupy the pristine valleys of your lungs, they start moving freely, like volitant birds during the spring. And once, the sun goes down, they reach up and high to touch the silver lining brushed with red and pink hues. They are ready to go back to their rightful abodes and fly in a single file, like marching soldiers, towards the meandering river as it leads to the openings of great forests that are nurtured by the rivulets.
This is what I feel about reading.