A Eulogy For My Bookshelf
It all started with Rowling and Gandhi but you wanted more. Remember when Paulo Coelho joined in and brought Milton along with him. Wasn't that a party. You started craving attention and soon this family added Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Plato.
It all started with a water chestnut wooden emptiness. But there were no bounds of your happiness when you smelled your first book. The crisp sound of its pages and the warmth in its content. I remember your eyes lit up and every time that I took that book, there was a morose silence in you.
It all started with that fresh paint you got a year back that turned things around. There was a fear at first, of losing your sanity and then there was nothing. You added Victor Hugo to your collection that year and loved it thoroughly. I remember the first rain, and the pain it put you through. Those irreparable damage it caused and the silence caught you again.
It all started a month after that horrid rain, when you got your favorite chestnut wood again and added 16 books to your family. Like an old grandpa, you still reign proudly over your victories. I remember you crying when you had to let go of Farkle that night.
Its still not over, shelf, there are plenty of people waiting to join you in your journey. All your infants, now grown so much, still helps in changing the life of so many others. So many stories yet to come and so many lessons yet to learn. It's always a start for you. But for now here's another book waiting to be a part of your kingdom.
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