‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’, is a popular phrase. Will ‘Don’t judge a reader by his/her books’ be another phrase that could catch on? I am a voracious reader and am always curious to know what other people are reading. Whether it is a newspaper, magazine or a book, it is interesting to know what is someone’s reading habit. Of course, it is interesting because it says something about what kind of person one is, or at least so I think! May be you agree or maybe you’re labeling me judgmental already.
My Dad was admittedly smitten by books and left behind a library of sorts. I wasn’t as smitten myself growing up though I had what one may call ‘a health reading habit’. Like many young girls, I started serious reading with the Nancy Drew novels and then moved to Robin Cook, Irwing Wallace, Sidney Sheldon – you get the hang of it, right? Then I started trying to exhaust my Dad’s list of books, in an attempt to connect to the man-in-absence (my Dad passed away when I was 1). At regular intervals, I would wade through his collection by trying to pick something interesting that’d keep me hooked and propel me towards the next one and the next and so on until I could proudly say I finished the entire collection. However, what I’d end up doing is get lost in the collection trying to make sense of this person who I’ve never met. There was such a variety from fiction to self-help, history to healing, humor (a little bit) to philosophy and psychology. I still remember the sly smile that’d be plastered on my face as I found a collection of James Hadley Chase novels sitting next to a copy of the ‘Discovery of India’ and wondered what it said about ‘my father figure’. It would have been easier to ask about such varied interests if the man was around but that was probably also the thrill of it – that I could make my own conclusions and be at peace with my findings without ever having to worry about having made a right or wrong judgment. Oh of course, my findings would change every few years depending on what age I was at and what kind of lessons I had learnt, so I can hardly claim that whatever I made of my Dad through these books could ever be conclusive. Nevertheless, it surely was an exercise which made me feel a connection with my Dad.
That being said, one doesn’t need to pore over collections to feel a connection. I see someone reading The Hindu (Chennai’s revered newspaper) and immediately make a mental note that this might be a serious reader. Similarly, while travelling or in an airport or while browsing in a bookstore (a physical one), I’m always pleased when I see someone reading books of similar taste as mine. More interesting than that is when someone wants to catch a glimpse of what I’m reading and if the person knows me enough, the ensuing conversation around ‘What are you reading?’ As I start talking and exchanging notes my brain’s making frantic attempts to understand some part of this person. Again, like in my Dad’s case, this may be nowhere near perfect but I’m convinced it tells me something useful about the person. It could even just be that they’re not so much into reading as into just making the right impression in the right circles by holding the right book in hand or projecting the required know-how of what’s the right book. So, like all other things in life, these observations have to be taken with a pinch of salt and I’ve to be cautious not to be blind to other possibilities. This is just one of the reasons why books give me the throbbing child-like excitement about opening a window to a whole imaginary world – only the world I’m interested in is people’s minds!
This piece either hits a chord with you or you are left wondering what the fuss is all about. I’m not sure how many people think of books as windows to one’s personality but I know there are some souls who do. I know this because I’ve had some interesting conversations with such souls. I’m hoping some more of such souls are reading this and will someday strike up a conversation with me.
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