A personal inquiry into reading.

A million books out there to read, but when you want to decide to pick one of them and read, it becomes a herculean task. Browsed a hundred books but not a single is found appealing, even remotely interesting. They all are talking about social issues or environmental issues or some historical event of one or another kind, and if not that then self help books are always there to fuel one’s illusions of what is what. Everyday, so much crap is being published. Lines and lines of bullshit written under the influence of some emotional or psychological delusion. Truth is unbreakable but look at how frail, blood-devoid it sounds when read in the lines of these books. It is a sad demise of something that should never die. Of course nothing is immortal, even long-lasting but for as long as a man lives and breathes and is capable of being aware, a few good and simple lines must be there, waiting for him to discover them.

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