...

My first book was Mr. Nobody by Enid Blyton. In the book the main character (Mr. Nobody) had the power to disappear.. so the book was a series of events where Mr. Nobody uses this power to help others…

I then started reading famous five series another group of kids to which Enid Blyton breathed air. I was a part of their adventures, their troubles, triumphs..

Next inline was the Hrady boys, where Frank and Joe replaced the innocence with style and sophistication. So on one hand where the famous five had a lot that I could identify with, the Hardy boys resonated the life style that impressed me no end.. they knew how to drive, use guns and oh yes, they had girl friends…

Then through bookshelf of other authors I lived my teens… All the authors and their books and their characters kept me entrained through my growing years..

As I grew up I appreciated the authors that suited my interest, which was complicated calculation of what I understood, what my friends were reading, and what was available in our town.

But as I grew, I kind of grew out of those authors who introduced me to this world of magic called reading. I mean when I was reading Sir Jeffrey Archer (amazing guy, wrote three bestseller even while he was in prison), I kind of looked down on hardy boys.. though if I ever saw a kid, with one of those series, it never failed to bring a smile that was of recognizing they joy I had had reading those..

Its like hand me downs, though you would never want to wear those again, see a younger brother/sister or anyone wearing those, never failed to manufacture that smile?

But recently I have been missing Mr.Nobody. I don’t know why, but I feel like reading that book again, but am scared, what if I don’t like that book, what if I find it silly..  it will completely ruin my memory.. and am not ready to do that..  

Sometimes we should let memories be just that memories, it can be fatal for that memory if you want to relieve it.. but again there are time when you add more by reliving them..

But for now I’ll avoid taking that chance, am too scared to remove the dust from the frame, for the fear of finding a picture underneath that I might not be able to identify.. 

Hurt: it’s weird how only the one who you love and value and make you aware of the feeling…. A person who has no values in your life can never really hurt you in the true sense of the word (feeling)..