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Young Blood

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10:18 PM January 02, 2012

My love for books dates back to the time when an old textbook had to be shared with four other public school students.  Back then, I did not have a thriving book collection yet. My books were limited to the reading textbooks lent to us, and a few ones I received from my ninongs and ninangs.

Perhaps it was my desire for whimsical stories that got me started with my love affair with books. I remember that the first stories I fancied were about a hen laying golden eggs, a giant living in the sky, a mermaid losing her skin, among many other stories.  And since I was not a huge fan of television shows, reading books was all I would do after class.  At a young age, I enjoyed the solitude that reading requires. I felt that nothing could be more pleasant, more satisfying than getting lost in a good book.

I had a world of my own, and it was built around the stories I read. Books really came alive, and they brought me to places where I rubbed elbows with the gods and goddesses, engaged with folks from far-flung barrios, frolicked with animals in their barns, witnessed the works of scientists and heroes from foreign lands. It was a comfort, and at the same time an escape, from my ordinary life.

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I contented myself with reading my worn-out textbooks and borrowing dusty pulps from our library, for even if the young me wanted to buy good books and frequent bookstores, books were not on top of mama’s list.  Our family had to make do with an average income.  Mama would buy me books only when they were required in school, and I needed to understand that.  Nonetheless, my love for books did not diminish.

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When I was old enough to be entrusted with my daily allowance, I set aside a few pesos for books.  Although there were times I was disheartened because some books were beyond my meager budget, I was resolved to building my book collection little by little. I would drop by secondhand bookstores, rifling through the sea of titles for hours until I would find a copy worth buying.

Hard work pays off. Years of rummaging through book piles have allowed me to bring home used books in good condition that I did not know really existed. And now that I am earning, I can already purchase brand-new books. I suppose any book lover knows the feeling well—the exhilaration that comes from owning, reading and shelving classic titles written by literary geniuses. Acquiring a good book gives a rewarding feeling like no other.

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These books are so precious that I made a place for them in my room. They decorate a portion of my wall.  I have not counted them lately, but I suspect that my growing collection has more or less 300 books.

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As I delight in my relatively small library, the world around me is adapting to the requirements of the modern world. The advent of the information age has ushered in gadgets with which one can read e-books. I foresee that in the years to come, these e-readers in the form of tablets will supplant printed books as a medium of information. It might not be anytime soon, but that day will come.

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While I have nothing against tablets, I dread the idea of emptying my shelves and bringing to our bodega big boxes filled with books. I fear that my interaction with a “book” will be limited to the cursory moves of my finger on the tablet screen, although I heard that e-readers are beginning to allow interactivity. Moreover, unlike with a traditional book, I cannot engage with an e-book by scribbling in notes or dog-earing the pages. And most especially, I cannot smell an e-book the way I smell an old book.

I do not have a tablet yet, and I am not close to buying one, but as I look at how the reading trend goes, I surely will buy one in time. It is likely that eventually I will have to look for the digital counterparts of my printed copies and will have to keep the e-books safe in a virtual home. But before that time comes, I am taking pleasure in the simple joys that come from leafing through and smelling the yellowing pages of a paperback novel. After all, the sensory experience that a conventional book gives is what makes book-reading unique.

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Karizza P. Bravo, 24, is a curriculum and materials developer at Mapua Institute of Technology. She is also pursuing her master’s degree in Language Education at the University of the Philippines Diliman.

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TAGS: books, featured columns, opinion, Reading

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