I’m always crazy about books and reading them. I like them more than clothes, cosmetics, or high-heels shoes. I can’t spend more than half an hour in a boutique, but I can linger for hours in a book store.
I don’t care if people call me a nerd. Indonesians don’t read enough, and I want it to change. So I’m excited that all of my nephews put a big interest on reading, cos I want them to be smart.
But lately I haven’t seriously read only one book. I haven’t finished Anna Karenina, but I already moved to John Grisham’s The Partner. In between those, I also read Mary Higgins Clarks’ novel, and a Chicken Soup book.
Yesterday evening, when I visited a book exhibition, I was almost tempted to buy one, simply because the cover looked interesting and they were having a bargain. But then I remembered the pile of books at home, so I refrained myself.
The book that I want most to read is Geraldine Brooks’ Foreign Correspondence, which is a memoir of how she traveled to find her long lost penpals all over the world. I want to read it so much, since I want to do the same thing with her someday. I have lots of wonderful penpals, mostly in Europe, and I hope I can meet them face to face someday.
“What if you don’t like them when you guys meet in person?” asked my friend skeptically.
I couldn’t find the words then. But after I gave it a thought, I realize that we already made a good move by being friends even though we never met. And how beautiful it is to build a friendship that is not confined by age, nations, distance or gender. How lovely to share our stories, learn the cultures, and simply love the people who sometimes seem to understand more than those around.
No comments:
Post a Comment