My love for reading and literature began when I was in first grade. I went to a reading intervention class to help me understand the concepts of reading and to encourage myself to read things that can challenge me. Really that class was probably what really set me off. It was like a flip switched, as soon as I mastered reading simple words I went on to harder texts that can challenge a reader my age. Soon I started taking an interest in reading books that had a page span of thirty to forty pages. I was(and still am)always drinking for knowledge. I hated being inhibited from such things that I needed answers from. By third grade, our teacher in school started reading us stories and letting us look up the authors who wrote the books. I scoured through articles and read more and more about the magical people who used a pen like a spellbinding wand to create magical pieces of text that I come to always love.
But then I started thinking to myself:
I wanna be like those people.
I wanna change peoples idea of the world,
I wanna make magic.
So there I was scrawling down furiously on the paper each day, a new idea developing in my head, a flower slowing starting to blossom.
That was probably one of the moments in my life that really created an indent in who I have become now. I mean the nine year old me was the most frail, meager, simple girl. I didn’t exactly know who I was going to become. I wanted to know. Art and music were one thing. But books are my true escape. Just like placing a brush on paper and letting it glide, or holding a deep, melodic note, and letting it flow. Sixth grade was my breaking point, I was nothing, and everything. I wrote, I painted, I drew, I played music. Everything I do has a purpose. I paint and draw because it calms me, because knowing that I can create things, it’s an amazing feeling. To make music, to play it with an actual instrument, to let my fingers do such movements and make such sounds with the help of a whole army of other players, and writing. The basis of what I think is what makes me who I am. I don’t think I can live without the arts, literature, let alone words.
I write because I want to spread messages. to change peoples perspectives of the world, to make magic.
There are so many books in the world. So many books, so little time. So many words waiting to be read by an eager peer.
Over the summer I had checked out a bunch of books to keep myself occupied when school wasn’t an option for the next two and a half months. Books are always my number one option for when I want to entertain myself, I can ignore the rest of the world, letting myself be absorbed by the music playing in my earbuds, and the words stamping themselves into my brain. By the end of the week, books sat dog-eared, book marked, or half open, scattered across my room like birds resting for the long flight to the southern regions for warmth. This process started continuing on. I found new books that I came to love with all the free time on my hands.
One day, my dad took me and my brother to the library, there was still a month and a half until school started again and I for one was reading so many books, so many thoughts were going on in my head, so as I roamed through the hundreds of books and breathed in the smell of magic and old and new pages, I didn’t seem to notice that I was about to ram into another boy in front of me. I being the stupid person I am continued reading the jacket of the book I was holding. But then I slipped and fell slamming into the boy, my knee length dress getting caught in one of the chairs. For the first time ever, I was happy that I had a small stature or I would’ve had a very painful fall. I was pinned to the floor, the books scattered along the floor. I was glad no one else was there in the room to see one of Kanmani’s Epic Fails in Action.
But then I saw the other boy rubbing his head as I just sat there like an idiot.
Shoot.
“Hey a-are you okay?” I asked, heat creeping up my neck. He looked up at me and met my eyes. He was really tall and skinny, I recognized him from somewhere but I couldn’t really place a finger on it. When he stood up straight I finally was able to make out the letters on his sweatshirt. It read: Sequoia Giants. As in representing Sequoia Middle School, the school I go to. I straightened myself and tried to look casual, I brushed of my dress and said “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there! Oh god I am so stupid.” I said, trying to pick up the books that fell out of my hands and to the floor. He bent down again and started picking up the books as well. As if he read my mind he said “Do I know you from somewhere?” He said as he handed me a book that fell out of the small stack in my hand. Luckily I only had three books so I didn’t drop any, so far. “Well, for starters, I go to Sequoia Middle School, I’m going into the seventh grade.” I said, starting to relax. He seemed a bit shocked at first, then relieved, then very happy. For what reason, I don’t know. “So we go to the same school, are going to be in the same grade, but we don’t hang out together at school?” He said wiggling his eyebrows. He then pointed to one of the books in my hand, a Heroes of Olympus book to be exact. It was actually the most heavy and had the widest width out of all the books I was holding so it was obviously recognizable.
“Y-you’ve read the books too?” I said, you could tell by the tone in my voice I was clearly shocked.
“Are you kidding? I’ve read every book by Rick Riordan!” He said. I grinned widely and so did he.
“You don’t happen to have read Harry Potter have you?” I asked hopefully.
“Are you serious!? I’ve read every book! Oh god which Hogwarts house are you?” He asked curiously.
“I’m half Ravenclaw half Gryffindor.” I said, becoming excited that I have met a person who shares my weird interests at the same crazy level as I.
“I’m a Gryffindor! Wait, who’s your Greek God genesis? I’m a son of Poseidon. I’m guessing your a daughter of Athena then?” He eyes the books in my hands and my glasses.(Poseidon is the Greek God of the sea). (Athena is the Greek god of wisdom and warfare)
“I’m in fact Athenian. I can’t believe we’ve never talked last year!” I said.
Ever since then, we looked for each other on the first day of school and instantly became the dynamic duo. At school we are always together. I was quite surprised that his other friends were my friends as well. So we all get along well.
So the point of that whole section in this post is that books bring people together in so many different ways, more ways than one.
So I honestly don’t exactly know what I was trying to accomplish in this post. I guess the first day of school really flipped a switch in me. I mean in the first two hours i managed to meet people that I barely talked to last year and then became close to them. All because we all shared something that not a lot of people can muster. We all poured our hearts out, telling each other our interests, sharing the books we’ve read. On that day, I brought along one of my books from home and passed it around to my friends. Each of them commented on what they liked about the book or if they are interest in reading it in the future. So yeah, books are everything, words, writing, just plain down to earth stuff. So if you’re a person that doesn’t read often or doesn’t have the time, well just try to make time for it, if you can(no pressure) it’s really healthy for you mentally and physically. It makes you whole, it brings people together, you can learn about life just by reading. I mean, I’m always just like Why can’t I read all day everyday?
So yeah anyway just let books into your life. Trust me, it can change you and your life.