Five books that changed my life

Life starts out like a ball of clay. Each press, twist and pat contributes to its formation, and changes it in some small way. Its sculptors vary from person to person. Mine, among others, consist of the rustle of pages and printed words.
From a very young age, my mother had tried to instill the habit of reading in me. Every night, she would read me some children’s story. Although I loved listening to my mom reading me stories, the true birth of the bookworm within me didn't happen till 2^nd grade. Till then, Clifford and Dora the Explorer always held more attraction than the pages of a novel did. In 2^nd grade, my class teacher was the first person to reveal the wondrous effects of literature to me. As I read my way through Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl, I felt as I could never have done, sitting and staring at the TV. The thrill of books was intoxicating! Even today, at the age of fourteen, they are my best friends.

The first book that really touched my heart, was E.B.White’s “Charlotte’s Web”. During my first visit to Singapore at the age of eight, I stumbled upon heaven...in the form of ‘Borders’. It was unlike any bookstore I had ever laid eyes on. The atmosphere simply made me want to grab a book, sink into a bean bag, and read. It was here that Charlotte’s Web first called out to me. The plight of a little girl of my age to save the world from injustice captured my attention like nothing else could. As little Fern fought her father to stop him from killing the runty new born pig, she said words that went straight to my heart.
“The pig couldn't help being born small, could it? If I had been very small at birth, would you have killed me?” When her father tries to reason with her lovingly, that a little girl and a runty little pig had a lot of difference, she stubbornly replied that she saw no difference at all. These words brought her father to sense as his paternal instincts took over. Instead of killing the pig, he gave it to Fern to raise as a pet and hoped God would forgive him for the foolishness he had been about to commit.

After I read this much, I told Ma that we simply had to buy this book. She of course, promptly bought the book for me. The pages of the book took me through the journey of Fern and Wilbur’s friendship and also the introduction of a very special friend, Charlotte. When Charlotte died at the end of the book, I pictured the small grey spider deserted in the middle of the Fair Grounds, seemingly insignificant but really the most essential role played in the Fair. It was the first book to have brought tears to my eyes.
As I learnt the importance of such unnoticed but rather wonderful creatures, my own perception of life was transformed into something much deeper. I was never of the destructive nature, but after Charlotte’s Web, I like to think that I've saved many a spider from an untimely death, by stopping my friends and classmates from stamping them out. After all, they may as well be one of Charlotte’s descendants, couldn’t they?

After Charlotte, I read many other splendid pieces of literature, but didn’t find one that had such an effect on me, until I met Harry Potter. I had already watched the first two movies before I started reading the books. My family is full of his fans. However, I was to be the greatest Potterhead in the family yet… I finished all the books we had in our house, and then waited with bated breath for the next one to release and finished each one with growing enthusiasm. The journey through the series was of course, an exhilarating experience for me, but Harry continued to change my life, long after the first reading.

I read the whole series many more times after that, sometimes in order, and sometimes not. I found that each time I read them, I uncovered something new in there… the origin of the names, the terrific detail Rowling has put into the plot. Each fictional place, each character had an overflowing pool of thought behind it. Not a single role was half-done, or even overdone. Each one was very realistic and absolutely perfect. This magical world of hers was created with utmost care.

Her dedication gave me such great inspiration, which cannot be described in words. I had always wanted to be an author, but Rowling filled me with new enthusiasm. I realised the extent of dedication that is required to be such a successful writer, and also the wide range of knowledge. She was British, but only someone with a vast knowledge of Indian language and culture could name a snake ‘Nagini’. Even ‘Voldemort’ was quite obviously derived from French. After reading Harry Potter, I found this sudden urge in me to learn as much the world has to give, believing that everything would contribute to my writing when I eventually become a writer. In ninth grade, I took up Drama as a subject even after my already packed syllabus, with the hope that it would help me study human character more directly and reflect in my writing.

Surprisingly, I could never create this interest towards the books in my classmates. They would eagerly watch the movies, but found the books dull and boring. After a few years I found a handful of my classmates – a new girl, and a few guys who had the same passion as I did, but for a very long time, I was alone in my class. So I indulged in virtual Harry Potter communities. I’m still a member of one; it’s called ‘Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’ on a website called Shelfari. I can’t say I’m not proud to declare that I was once a very active member of this group, and the friends I made here took me through one of the most troubled periods of my adolescent life. I try to do my best these days, but then the real world takes over and makes it rather hard.

Many people could tell you that Harry Potter gave them back their spirituality, or even gave them a family and a job, but I’m just fourteen. And Harry has changed as much of the life of a fourteen year old girl as he possible can.

When I reached class eight, everyone started talking about a book called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. As always, I couldn’t wait to get hold of the book after having heard such great reviews of it. Finally, a friend of mine managed to ‘borrow’ her elder brother’s book, which I in turn, borrowed from her. With many a threat towards the well-being of the book, I started reading...

The Alchemist has a class of its own. Although I wouldn’t say the book is one of my dearest, or one of my favourites, I definitely learnt a lot, both about the world, and about my own identity on that journey to the Pyramids of Egypt with Santiago. Here, I will share two of the most important and interesting aspects that the book taught me.

One was the one true language of the universe. This has been recurrently mentioned throughout the novel. This is the language which requires no words, and is understood by all beings of the universe. Santiago first discovers this fascinating phenomenon when he realises that he had been talking with a boy of his age for over an hour, and neither had realised until later that one had been speaking Arab and the other, Spanish. Yet they had understood each other perfectly. Reading this had reminded me of a similar incident I had actually witnessed. When my brother was two years old, he was a fluent Bengali speaker. At around this time, we had gone to Chennai, to visit my uncle and aunt. My aunt, who is Tamil, took us to her parents’ house where we had lunch.

As we ate, we saw my brother casually walking into the kitchen and conversing with their maid. The astonishing thing was, my brother was speaking in Bengali, and the maid, in Tamil – but that seemed to be no problem at all. They chattered away in their respective languages for a long time like old friends, before my brother was put to bed. That was before I had read The Alchemist, and I had found this incident highly amusing. It wasn’t until I read this book that I realised the true significance of that event.

The other thing I learnt was more of a hidden skill I found myself in possession of. The skill is, in fact, the sort that lies, unacknowledged in every being, and never cultivated. At one point in the book, Santiago is introduced to his heart. His heart explains to him how it is always there to guide him and give him company. All he must do is strike up a conversation. Times come when his heart is so scared, he needs to reassure it that there is nothing to be afraid of. While reading the book, this simply struck as an interesting metaphor to me. However, I was to know a few months later, that the skill of conversing with one’s heart is one which is real, in a totally non-metaphorical way.

The realization came in the middle of what I believe to be the toughest and most disturbed period of my life yet. I had to take a decision that eventually made me a stronger person at the end of it all. This decision, I took from my heart. At one point, similar to Santiago, I felt a queer, uncomfortable feeling in my heart. I decided to try out a conversation with my heart. To my immense surprise, my heart replied to my questions! I didn’t have to think about it, the replies were instant, and clear. Even more astonishingly, by the end of the conversation the queer feeling had totally vanished. I learnt that day, that Science has yet to explain a lot!

These are the three books that have contributed most to my present outlook on life. However, it would be an injustice not to mention two other very important books. One contributed to my multidimensional interest in academics. Though it’s evident that Literature is a favourite with me, the next book goes in a totally different direction.

Surely You’re Joking Mr. Feynman, if nothing else, is definitely one of the prime reasons for my interest in Physics. My uncle, a physicist himself, was the one to introduce me to this book. The funny, carefree style in which the book has been written could not fail to produce an interest of Physics in the most unschooled mind to read it. Apart from that, the simplicity of a Nobel laureate like Feynman amazes me and makes me admire him all the more. The similarity we share in our scatterbrained-ness is probably another reason why this book has influenced me to this extent. Today, I cannot dream of not having Physics as a subject.

There are quite a few other books that I’m sure have affected my life for the better. There was one book on the life of Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan – the teacher of my teacher. In that book, there were pieces written by all the great artists who had met him at some point in their lives. All of them had mentioned the extent of his dedication in various ways. This definitely inspired me in my music and added tremendously to my interest.

My life at this stage is still taking form. All I can hope for is that many other great books like these will continue to sculpt my life for the better.