There are these authors you want to hug each time you read the flap of a book written by them… to me the foremost of such authors amongst Bach, Coelho and others is R.K.Narayan. I’m forced to stay put at home on my bed and I have him as my sole recourse – reading his autobiography “My days”. With each page I discover that every nuance I imagined of my favourite author’s backdrop as a fervent Narayan fan was so true. As I read about RKN’s experiences with his uncle and grandmother and his childhood home, I am reminded of the stories that my own grandfather used to narrate to me of his native village. That reminds me of trivia from an old family album that points out to a certain branch in my family tree that is supposed to relate me to RKN. I suddenly want to do some root searching – but what the hell! some relationships are better off without the know how of genealogy – more so the relationship of a reader with her favourite author (nevertheless I decide to ask my dad about it soon).
The deceptive simplicity of Narayan’s characters and plots reassure me that the greatest truths of life are always the simplest as well. I continue my reading with the same joy and excitement that I recall of my first encounter with RKN’s books. It takes me back to the time when I stole ‘Swami and Friends’ from my uncle’s treasured bookshelf and hid under his easy-chair to read it while he was asleep. Page after page, he makes me smile, he makes me laugh and he allows that nostalgic tear drop run down my cheek. Amidst all the lesson plans, corrections, grammar classes and language training sessions I had somehow got comfortable with the excuse of not having the time to read and always put of “My days” for another day. Today I was glad I had nothing else to do but read.
After four hours of reading, I am interrupted by my cell phone and a colleague informs me that I am to teach the additional English students this year as well and how sorry he is that this year’s syllabus is very long, it includes a novel and how it will take me a lot of time to prepare for the same – “we have to finish all chapters of Swami and Friends before the first term” – he says in a disappointed voice… “really?” I smile, thank him I hug the author again, get back to my idyllic reading and work is no more a subject of anxiety. :-)
