You know how one thing leads to the other. Agnes’s latest blog about the book Shantaram, and her comments on Vibgyor’s post got me thinking. When ever people tell me that they read books like Children of a Lesser God or The White Tiger, I feel quite embarrassed that I don’t have the inclination for it, though I am an avid reader.
As far as I can remember, I have always been interested in crime and detectives. I am doing some soul searching here as I write. Reading between the lines, was always second nature to me. I can spot an error right on. My senses are so acute. You should have seen me when I was pregnant. I laugh so hard when I think about it. If I say I have acute senses now, they were a hundred times more acute when I was pregnant. I used to throw up like crazy if somebody cooked onions even 10 houses away. Oh, It was bad!
I am going to cover two aspects of me here: Why I cannot read serious books and what brought about this sleuthing in me. They are kind of connected in a way.
Growing up wasn’t easy for me. For some crazy reason (which I am not going to get into details about), my mother was really against me. She made it real tough for me to live, so I had to grow up real fast. It might sound very unbelievable, but she was always scheming against me and trying to get me into trouble. Yes, she is my real mother. Only she knows best why she did what she did. Of course, in the beginning, I did not see it coming and the result was severe punishments. She would only be happy when my father scolded and punished me. Most times, I did not know what I did wrong. But whatever I did, I always got the short end of the stick. No matter how hard I tried, I could do no right in her eyes. And as a little child, you can imagine what that felt like.
So since home life was terrible, I found solace in books. I would get library books, wrap it up, to look like a school book (even reading was a crime) and would escape into an imaginary world. I read The cherry tree farm and other Enid Blytons, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys. It would give me the much needed happiness. I would read like a mad person, often finishing books in a single sitting/day.
Most of my childhood was spent this way, merging with the walls, so that I would not be noticed and held responsible for the World Wars!
Since I wanted to escape and have fun, these light-hearted books were the way to go. Serious books made me sad and got me thinking.
Now since I was interested in detective stories, I began thinking like one. Here my mother was the tormentor and I had to stay out of her way. Since I was not allowed to read books, my sense of hearing was heightened to catch even the slightest sound of feet on carpeted floors. The books would be hid in a jiffy, that explains my reflex. I trained my eyes to catch even a centimeter of difference in the way my cupboard was arranged. I knew exactly where things were placed. So I knew if she had invaded my personal space and if anything was missing and if I had to build a story around it. Likewise, my sense of smell would catch the whiff if anybody approached or if they had already been there.
I read someplace that blind people had unusually good hearing and sense of smell to help them. I was something like that. Over a period of time, I got really good at it. My sixth sense helps me a lot too. One wrong look, and I will sense it. It has helped me a lot.
They say there is good in everything. While I am happy with these powers (if you could call it that), there are times I wish I did not have to go through what I did. I always feel that if the enemy is on the outside, you can find the strength to tackle him/her. But if the enemy is within, it weakens you and makes the process a lot harder often resulting in a lot of damage to self-esteem.
Even now, I find it difficult to read a serious book. Recently I struggled with The Pillars of The Earth by Ken Follett. Every time I would get back to the book, I would have to read back a few pages to align myself. Too many characters!
I always thought that I would take up Forensic Science. Maybe I should have. Boy, that would have been some job, huh! Right up my alleyway too!
As far as I can remember, I have always been interested in crime and detectives. I am doing some soul searching here as I write. Reading between the lines, was always second nature to me. I can spot an error right on. My senses are so acute. You should have seen me when I was pregnant. I laugh so hard when I think about it. If I say I have acute senses now, they were a hundred times more acute when I was pregnant. I used to throw up like crazy if somebody cooked onions even 10 houses away. Oh, It was bad!
I am going to cover two aspects of me here: Why I cannot read serious books and what brought about this sleuthing in me. They are kind of connected in a way.
Growing up wasn’t easy for me. For some crazy reason (which I am not going to get into details about), my mother was really against me. She made it real tough for me to live, so I had to grow up real fast. It might sound very unbelievable, but she was always scheming against me and trying to get me into trouble. Yes, she is my real mother. Only she knows best why she did what she did. Of course, in the beginning, I did not see it coming and the result was severe punishments. She would only be happy when my father scolded and punished me. Most times, I did not know what I did wrong. But whatever I did, I always got the short end of the stick. No matter how hard I tried, I could do no right in her eyes. And as a little child, you can imagine what that felt like.
So since home life was terrible, I found solace in books. I would get library books, wrap it up, to look like a school book (even reading was a crime) and would escape into an imaginary world. I read The cherry tree farm and other Enid Blytons, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys. It would give me the much needed happiness. I would read like a mad person, often finishing books in a single sitting/day.
Most of my childhood was spent this way, merging with the walls, so that I would not be noticed and held responsible for the World Wars!
Since I wanted to escape and have fun, these light-hearted books were the way to go. Serious books made me sad and got me thinking.
Now since I was interested in detective stories, I began thinking like one. Here my mother was the tormentor and I had to stay out of her way. Since I was not allowed to read books, my sense of hearing was heightened to catch even the slightest sound of feet on carpeted floors. The books would be hid in a jiffy, that explains my reflex. I trained my eyes to catch even a centimeter of difference in the way my cupboard was arranged. I knew exactly where things were placed. So I knew if she had invaded my personal space and if anything was missing and if I had to build a story around it. Likewise, my sense of smell would catch the whiff if anybody approached or if they had already been there.
I read someplace that blind people had unusually good hearing and sense of smell to help them. I was something like that. Over a period of time, I got really good at it. My sixth sense helps me a lot too. One wrong look, and I will sense it. It has helped me a lot.
They say there is good in everything. While I am happy with these powers (if you could call it that), there are times I wish I did not have to go through what I did. I always feel that if the enemy is on the outside, you can find the strength to tackle him/her. But if the enemy is within, it weakens you and makes the process a lot harder often resulting in a lot of damage to self-esteem.
Even now, I find it difficult to read a serious book. Recently I struggled with The Pillars of The Earth by Ken Follett. Every time I would get back to the book, I would have to read back a few pages to align myself. Too many characters!
I always thought that I would take up Forensic Science. Maybe I should have. Boy, that would have been some job, huh! Right up my alleyway too!
13 comments:
This is a great post, Bins.
It goes without saying that what you said about your childhood made my heart bleed a bit...
I really think you should solve crime, your comment on Vigybor's was right on :-)))
I don't read nearly as much as I used to. I can't remember the last time I read a book. I guess life is better than books :-)
LOL dear.
Even though you fought with an enemy within, you've come out of it in a brave way. Hats off to you ! I really don't know, whether I've got so much of inner strength. You can be proud of yourself !
And, the detective in you needs a very good praise. It's that quality in you that's helping you to handle your energetic daughter, who always has something up her sleeve.
And, after Hardy boys, I realised that I do not enjoy any detective stories. They are not my type.
are you a Scorpio?
If its any consolation then I love detective movies and those thrillers who dun it, film noir.
These days I am into Indian authors who writes mostly about our culture and marriages. Very light and time pass:)
Agnes: What's done is done. We all need to move on, right? U bet, Life is more interesting.
Uma:Even now, i cannot tear my eyes away from those thriller movies and books! My mind will be racing to solve the crime. Gives me a real high!
Colours - No, not a scorpio. Do u want the answer or should I let u try again.
Solilo: The kind of books that really bug me are the "How to be a millionaire" types.
This post is so touching...but as you said what's done is done..I guess. I am a sucker for detective stories too...to this day, I cannot resist an Agatha Christie...I spent a few hundred dirhams and bought the entire Miss Marple BBC TV series recently...and have been devouring the poirot episodes some nice soul had uploaded on youtube!
Oh...and...you have been tagged!
Bins: Oh no... let us keep the mystery going? Scorpios are supposed to love detective novels. I would say that your skill is really nice and useful to be able to decipher...
Agnes, which one of her comments are you talking about? There have been a few recently which makes me feel so.
Wannabe writer: Lucky u, I have to steal time to read these days.
Coulours: Agnes's comments on your Milan airport post, where she thought my detective skills were good.
Ah! The Milan one :) - yes...
Bins...calls from the family doesnt count......its expected;-D
Beans: man you've come a long way!! I know coz i've see what ur mom cud do. I am truly happy for you.
Bins: I'm truly shocked reading this post. Can't get to the books part of it, still hung up on how your mom treated you!....... and to see that i always find you happy .... man! that's awesome... kudos girl.... my heartfelt hugs...... read what makes you happy, God knows you deserve every ounce of it :)
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