Tomes are magical, really. You take a book from your shelf
or your table, open it, dive yourselves into the words and with the power of
imagination, you’re transported to a whole new place. Your souls and hearts and
minds are now resided in a disparate world but you and your physical selves are
still here. It’s like being in two places in one time, connected yet separated
by the thin veils of papery leaves.
While reading is certainly an experience for the mind, how
about the other small things that we barely notice while reading books? How
about the feelings of having the tip of your fingers caressing the pages of
your book? The smooth sheets beckon your fingers to nimbly flip it, so that you
won’t do any damages to the paper. Paper is such a fragile element, but its
rather short permanence makes it much more valuable.
The rustling sounds that the pages of paper make as you turn
them one by one, aurally inviting as you continue your adventure in words. The
sounds are like music. The pace changes, always, depending on how fast or how
slow you read a book. When you get excited, suspenseful, anxious, the sound
comes like a fast flowing tempo. When you savour the most intimate moments, the
part where the characters are at their most vulnerable, damaged state, the part
where emotions are abound, the rhythm of the paper slows down.
Have you ever smelled your books? I just love the smell of new
books, old books… okay maybe books of all ages. You just can’t get enough of
it. The smell of books is caused by a natural alcohol found in woods that is
known as ‘lignin’. Old books will generally have a sweet wonderful scent of faint
vanilla and grass. Lignin is the natural aroma of woods, the natural aroma of
books. You can’t get any better than that and it is aptly fitted to the fact
that books are the food for your soul.
As books grow old, the pages started to yellow, and you may
notice the blots and patches of rusty colours here and there. We call those
patches ‘foxing stains’. On the downside, it is a sign that the books are
deteriorating, a normal process, yes, but certainly not a welcomed one. In a way,
however, I love seeing those marks. It shows that the books are growing old,
just like how we are getting older and older every single day. I’ll make sure
that my books will stay with me as long as I live.
Books are my treasures. The words inspire, the stories
enthrall, the bound pages held either by threads or glue are the guardians of
our imagination. For eons, books have worked for us, for eons to
come, they shall stay that way.
