Surprising Refreshment

It is surprisingly refreshing to stay up till two in the morning to finish a book, even if it means less sleep (if you sleep at 4am and sleep in till three in the afternoon on weekends, disregard that). Curling up with a good book on the weekend, reading into the quiet hours of the night, ensconced in the peace and calm that comes when daytime bustle disappears and dissolves with the onset of (other people’s) slumber.

Of course, it can only be done with a good book. And as with every good book, the experience is, clichéd as it sounds, a magical transportation. Because good books really take you away to a place preferable to present surroundings, a place you would rather inhabit, where the walls of the room you sit in become invisible. And they do it in a way that good games or good movies cannot. And while in the neighbouring room someone enjoys his dreams, delving into the dreams of the author becomes that much more satisfying; perhaps its because we let ourselves be more vulnerable at night than in the day that reading into the wee hours amplifies the book. Amplifies its comfort enough to forget that responsibilities beyond the book (like exams) could matter.

Pick up Tony Parson’s Man and Boy some time; it’s fabulous.


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