Why Am I Not Buying A Kindle Yet?

As someone who always carries a book in my bag (yes, I always carry a bag too), I am often advised to buy Kindle. I have myself toyed with the idea of buying one often. Kindle is lighter, can store many books at once, has a great battery life, saves paper etc. But there’s something that holds me back every time my fingers hover dangerously close to the ‘Add To The Cart’ when I visit the Amazon website.

So what are the reasons one may not want to buy Kindle, despite being a book-lover? I am sure, you’ve heard the “Oh, it doesn’t feel like a real book!” argument. So I won’t go there. Let’s explore other reasons.

Books make for great conversation starters: You’re reading on the metro, lost in the magic of words, oblivious to the world around you. You don’t realise that there’s a pair of eyes secretly watching you. No, actually, it’s the title of the book that’s caught their attention. The observer comes up to you and interrupts your book-induced revery saying, “hey! That’s an amazing book you’re reading. I re-read it last week. How do you like it?” He smiles at you. A disarming smile. The Jay Gatsby kind of smile. You smile back, happy with the realisation that there are still things in the world that are prettier than the book you’re holding, and share your impressions of the book. For all one knows, few minutes later, you two may be walking off into the sunset discussing books and quoting your favourite lines. Now, can this happen with Kindle?

Books make for pretty home decor: I am not sure how many of you realise the incredible power of books to render a dull and deserted corner of your house alive and welcoming. Just stack up a few books against the wall, throw in a large floor cushion or a beanbag, hang a pendant lamp—and you’ve just made your room awesome! Some book-covers are so exquisite that they can rival art objects easily. Use them well and see your space turn Oh-so-classy!  Can you do that with Kindle?

Books speak for you: When someone comes over to your place for the first time and looks at your books, they get a sense of person you are without your having to say it. Your books open a tiny window through which one can peek into your personality. Your taste in books speaks for your outlook towards life. Then by asking you which are your favourite ones, the highly recommended ones, the ones which you didn’t like as much, they can fine-tune their understanding of your weltenschauung. All the books laid out there on your shelf have a little bit of you preserved between their pages. If one is perceptive enough one can read into your personality, to a reasonable degree, by reading the titles gracing your book-shelf. I am not sure if someone on their visit to your house may want to ask you to open your Kindle for them so that they may see the titles you own. (On a related note, those who don’t notice your books, aren’t worth being invited second time round. Just saying!)

Kindle is expensive: Actually, I am poor. There! I said it. So maybe if you’re thinking what to buy me this Diwali, I have already made your life easier. You can thank me later. After I have thanked you for your generosity, that is. Don’t worry, I will make do with the amazing benefits that physical books come with. We HAVE to save trees. Remember!

The Morning After

Like a snake,

the night sneaked

into the burrow of oblivion,

leaving behind trails of 

fading purple that slowly

gave into a dim orange.

 

And now the sky looks

as if it has borrowed its hues

from the smudged kumkum

that adorns Her breasts.

 

The breasts are marked.

The previous night they were

marked with rich patterns

drawn with fine kumkum, and

this morning, with tiny crescents

(where His nails had dug into).

 

Faintly aware of the new morning, 

wrapped in the haze of memories

from the previous night,

She blinks and yawns,

fighting back the torpor, 

with a delicate stretch of hands  

(the fabric of time and space

 contracts and expands!).

 

Her locks, curly and black,

dishevelled as they are,

with lose mogra flowers

tangled in them here and there,

look ravishing. 

(Last night He had knitted

 these flowers in her braid.)

 

The surroundings look cluttered:

disarrayed garments (that had been carefully 

chosen the night before); the lose and 

scattered pearls that, till the last night,

had strung and swung on her bosom;

a forlorn flute and a few ruffled peacock feathers.

 

He is lying next to her.

His eyes, like the petals of a blooming lotus,

underlined with thick lashes, still closed. 

His eyelids are stained with the red

of her lips and her lips stained with

the black of his kohl.

 

On his nether lip sits a bite-mark

(She smiles shyly as she observes it);

the tilak mark on his forehead is half erased;

the pleats of his turban lose, almost about to come off.

 

His nearly undone turban is crimson-stained. 

She looks at it, confused, then, images flash in her head:

He is decorating her lotusy feet with mahaavar. 

She giggles when He praises his own artistry. 

He brushes her feet gently,

making her slightly giddy and tickly.

 

And He then implores her to place her right foot

on his forehead right betwixt his eyebrows. 

Reluctantly, she complies. 

Something like an electric current tunnels through him

the moment her sole touches his forehead. 

(Galaxies are shuffled;

 they spin and collide, 

forming galactic vortexes !)

 

He pulls it down slowly, 

feeling its softness and warmth on his face, 

and sucks her toe for while, 

before bringing it further down

and placing it on his broad chest 

and pressing her sole hard against it,

lost in divine ecstasy. (New universes are born!)

 

She had closed her eyes,

for she could not have dared to witness

the sacrilege, although she was the very instrument of it.

A moan escapes her lips (there come the Vedas!).

 

Now reminiscing about it,

in this serene dawn, 

she cannot seem to gather the details of what followed.

There were only signs and imprints

left now to tell the tale:

her body was now smeared with the chandan 

He had worn last night, and his body

had trails of scented unction that

She had anointed herself with.