Have I been missing for over a year now? Yes. Have I been reading all this while? No.
To cut a long story short, I have been busy growing a human. Yes. Most of 2019 has been a good year for me. Though an absolute disaster in terms of the reading I was meant to do.
I’d been warned to finish as much as I could because the last thing I’ll have time for once the little one is out, would be a book and peacefully at that. And for once, everyone is right. For a large part, that is.
Reading peacefully may never happen in the near future, but reading still can.
I’ve realised now that even though my priorities have changed and I can no longer schedule my day like before, some things can’t be completely done away with. Passion especially. They just take a step back. And sooner or later you’ll figure out how you want to do what you love doing if you truly love doing it.
Maybe I cannot read for hours at a stretch, cuddled up on my sofa, sipping my coffee, with an occasional glance out of the window.
Maybe my reading time will be limited to short bursts of stolen minutes sitting on the floor next to the crib with a milk stained t-shirt and the bare wall to rest against.
This will have to do for now.
For, to be me,
Amidst all this chaos, to be me,
Into a book I’ll need to dive.
And dive I shall.
One page at a time.