Shine, sweet freedom
Shine your light on me*

It was in 1981 that sweet freedom finally shone her light on me.

That was the year I escaped the claustrophobic confines of Burn Hall School and entered Sri Pratap (SP) College as a freshly-elongated fuzzy-faced 14-year old.

Three glorious years later, having lived thrills worth several lifetimes, I left for medical school as a man in every sense of the term. The person I am today is just a slightly wiser but more cynical version of my 1983 self.

Last week, after too long a time, I returned to SP College to attend a book fair. It was a bittersweet experience. Beatific memories at every corner were tempered by despair at the descent of the college from stately decadence into outright decay. Unkempt lawns, soul-less concrete buildings jostling the old architecture, and garbage dumps where the tennis courts used to be.

There is something seriously wrong with the way we are treating our heritage. The more money we throw at the insatiable monster that masquerades as progress, the worse things seem to become.

The book fair had another unwelcome surprise in store. I had expected throngs of book lovers to be crowding the stalls. As it turned out, apart from a smattering of college students and a few government officers, only tradespeople connected to the fair seemed to be in attendance.

I made a number of visits to the fair over three days and picked up a selection of exquisite books from the vast collection on display. Apparently the Mirwaiz had also visited the fair and advised a young, impromptu audience that a careful selection of reading material was essential for the progress of a nation.

Surely there would have been a book for every taste and pocket, but very few people seemed to be interested. What a shame!

Even as we blame our ebbing love of books on the movement/militancy (which is our favourite catch-all excuse for every ill that ails our society), we should take a look at For the Love of Books.

*Sweet Freedom
Written By: Rod Temperton
Performed By: Michael McDonald

1. Destiny Disrupted

Tamim Ansary

Where do I come from? (read this book)

2. The Little Prince, and Wind, Sand & Stars

Antoine De Saint- Exupery

The forerunner to Coelho with a turn of phrase more magical than Rushdie's. Saint-Exupery was the real deal – a true-blue adventurer amongst poseurs.

3. Fallen Giants

Maurice Isserman and Stewart Weaver

Vittorio Sella's photographs and its all-encompassing sweep place this book higher than Viesturs' K2 and Krakauer's Into Thin Air.

I have been addicted to the printed word all my life. Even these days when I am the busiest I have ever been at work, I manage to read two or even three books a week.

My reading style is slightly bizzare. Typically, I speed read every new book in a single marathon reading session which may last throughout an entire day and night. If I like that particular book, I then re-read it over the course of the week, slowly taking it in like the boa in The Little Prince. Often I shall read it again if an incident down the years triggers the memory of that book.

Funnily enough, two exceptions to this rule are the first and third books on the list above – due as much to the quality as to the scope of these books. Destiny Disrupted and Fallen Giants are to be savoured a chapter at a time. The Little Prince, on the other hand, is a short but timeless fable with an almost sufi-like sensibility.

I envy you the reading joy you are about to experience.