by Rajeev Vaishnav
Are you a bibliophile? Love books? Reading is more natural to you than breathing?
A lot of you would answer yes to these questions in a jiffy, right? Now let me ask something which you need to really think about and then answer it honestly.
Ever judged someone based on what they are reading or writing? Ever met a blogger and gave her a condescending look for writing about her pets? Ever met a book lover and sneered at him for reading Chetan Bhagat?
A lot of you would answer yes to these questions in a jiffy, right? Now let me ask something which you need to really think about and then answer it honestly.
Ever judged someone based on what they are reading or writing? Ever met a blogger and gave her a condescending look for writing about her pets? Ever met a book lover and sneered at him for reading Chetan Bhagat?
I have. I swear, I have done it over and over and over. I've done it in person. I’ve mocked and judged and sneered over social networks. Hell I’ve even forged entire friendships based on the fact that they read the authors that I read. Or at least the authors that I can consider reading.
And I am ashamed of it. You know why? Because I failed literature. I failed the reason why literature exists. I was inept at understanding the importance of the written word.
Here’s what I realized.Literature exists to be experienced. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. It is nothing but something to experience. It is not to be judged. It is not to be used material for your comedy. Or your sarcasm. Or even wit. It is simply for the sole reason to be experienced. On a personal, individual, inherently unique manner.
How you read or what you read or who you read is your choice. I should have no say in it. Nor should I bother crafting an opinion about it. And vice-versa. I do admit. This realization comes fairly late in life. And at 24 years of age, I can hardly claim that I was but a naive boy. Not when I have seen 17 year old launch their start-ups, not when I've seen twenty year old becoming billionaires. And especially not when I myself have been writing for last five years of my life.
I have judged and mocked people for their reading choices for far too long and somewhere down the line, I have been judged and mocked by those who read better authors than me. And its fine. Let them mock. But I won’t. No more.
I don’t care who you read. I do care if you can suggest me who to read. I’ll take that as a suggestion. I will decide whether I will act on it or not. And I will offer only the same in return. Neither a decree, nor a request. Merely a suggestion. You may find it worth remembering or worth dismissing. Your choice.
Those are the keywords here. Your choice. Your reading. Your interpretation. And Your Experience!
And to those who I’ve mocked, my deepest apologies. Let’s talk about books and be nice to each other.
And I am ashamed of it. You know why? Because I failed literature. I failed the reason why literature exists. I was inept at understanding the importance of the written word.
Here’s what I realized.Literature exists to be experienced. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. It is nothing but something to experience. It is not to be judged. It is not to be used material for your comedy. Or your sarcasm. Or even wit. It is simply for the sole reason to be experienced. On a personal, individual, inherently unique manner.
How you read or what you read or who you read is your choice. I should have no say in it. Nor should I bother crafting an opinion about it. And vice-versa. I do admit. This realization comes fairly late in life. And at 24 years of age, I can hardly claim that I was but a naive boy. Not when I have seen 17 year old launch their start-ups, not when I've seen twenty year old becoming billionaires. And especially not when I myself have been writing for last five years of my life.
I have judged and mocked people for their reading choices for far too long and somewhere down the line, I have been judged and mocked by those who read better authors than me. And its fine. Let them mock. But I won’t. No more.
I don’t care who you read. I do care if you can suggest me who to read. I’ll take that as a suggestion. I will decide whether I will act on it or not. And I will offer only the same in return. Neither a decree, nor a request. Merely a suggestion. You may find it worth remembering or worth dismissing. Your choice.
Those are the keywords here. Your choice. Your reading. Your interpretation. And Your Experience!
And to those who I’ve mocked, my deepest apologies. Let’s talk about books and be nice to each other.