CLASSICS

They have always had a queer charm for me. Its easy to read present day books, they r gripping. But with classics one has to work a way around. One has to put an effort to stick around initially, but once u do pass the initial test...mostly a 60 odd pages, they suck you in. And then there is no getting away.

Books of today are like a blast. They happen so fast but later all that remains is the impact, a sense of being jolted in or out of consciousness. One remembers no details. Only a moment.

But classics are like a fire growing, u have to stir it when it is young, but once it takes hold there is no putting it off. And even after one have finished reading them, they stay on like burning pieces of coal... glowing red in your heart, in your memories and a constant source of warmth.

And maybe they suit me more. They are never too rash in-your-face kinds. But they convey their message nevertheless. Call me a dreamer if you choose, but I never have to worry about reading a classic. I know I will like it.

I don't say I don't like the modern authors. They are great too. Am just talking about the style. To me the romanticism of eighteenth century is more intriguing than fiery passions of today. Though sometimes one needs those jolts too.

Maybe these classics are the basis of my many beliefs. The way I live my life. Or maybe they represent to me all that is found no more. Passions need not be fiery. That which is disciplined should not be assumed to lack depths of emotions. And all that glitters is not gold. But we are living in an age of show-biz. So who can be blamed. Besides one always learns to learn.

To me love is discipline. And I prefer forever.

p.s am re-reading Wuthering Heights right now........