I don’t know how to describe myself properly, I hit a complete blank every time. It makes me feel like liquid. Like I have no form and here I am pouring myself into the ‘About Me’ section of this page. And my greatest fear is over-spilling. Saying too much or not being able to say anything of significance.
I change so often and every time I look back, I am looking back at someone who just didn’t know enough. And every time I try to describe myself, the answers are never the same.There is something new to discover about myself every single day. I would like to believe that the person I have become is because of my own personal choices, but that would be an outright lie. My personality is partially an imprint of the people that came, went or stayed in my life. The people that hurt me, loved me, broke me, made me or remade me. But if you really want to know me, then these words should do it; I am moody, an over-thinker, dramatic, funny, depressed, anxious, creative, sensitive (extremely), emotional, expressive, selfish, thorough, a clean freak, a worrywart, a dreamer, nature lover, analytical, a baker, an accountant, a passive feminist, proactive (When the task is interesting), procrastinator (when the task is unbearable), excessively responsible and I am not that self-confident or self-satisfied as I would like to be. See how many nouns and adjectives I used? I just didn’t want to be tied to one noun and no one should have to restrict themselves that way.
I am a 34-year-old married woman who was raised in a strict Indian family household. We are a family of five. I have two siblings, a brother, and a sister. Me being the oldest. I was born in Northern India but I spent most of my life in Southern Africa. My folks worked for a close family member. My mother was the only active parent and till date, my father is the only human that I have spent the most time with but had the least conversations with. We are a typical north Indian family where girls were not valued as much as boys. My mother was strict and traditional so we never went to friends’ houses, never had birthday parties, have no childhood photos (until my brother came) and never had any friends come over.
I remember we had ’tuckshop’ sales on the last Fridays of the month at school, where my sister and I would share 5 candies and a cold drink amongst us two. Those were few of the happiest childhood memories I have. My sister was the closest friend and family to me. We didn’t have many toys but ample imagination. We would make toys out of mud, Gypsy wagons out of sofa seats, we would have spicy canned baked beans with cheese and toast and watery orange juice and watch the Dracula series on TV with the curtains drawn. Television was our only trusted form of entertainment until the books came.
And novels and storybooks were a strict no no! Until one fine day, my Primary school teacher added library visits as a mandatory activity. I still remember that day in 1994. My first book was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I found it fascinating. But there was a sad truth that I acknowledged about this book many years later. It wasn’t their adventures or their talking lions that fascinated me. It was the fact that books were like that cupboard for me. An escape from taunts and unachievable expectations. An escape from an unhappy childhood.
In books I found real friends and real relationships. My first friend was the BFG, my mother would be Ms. Jennifer Honey from Matilda and my family would be the Ingalls family from The Little House on the Prairie. Reading books was like someone just offed the lights around me and shone just one big stage light on the pages. And I would turn these pages and that’s it…if I felt pain, if I had problems, if I had any regrets they were all left behind in the darkness…Infinite happiness in finite moments.
So that’s it…That’s why I named this page The Book Hiatus because books were my break. That much-needed pause, the reprieve, the break in the sequence that I need for that ‘anywhere but here’. I know these reviews are never going to be the New Yorker quality but I don’t mind. I just like talking about books. Apart from my book reviews, I have also included a section for the other chambers of my life. So I guess that’s it. I would love to hear from you guys too, your comments your thoughts, the books you read and why you read. I hope you like reading this blog as much as I did bringing it to life.