I love reading. The smell of books, the feel of pages and the stories they hold, give me solace and peace. Some evoke nostalgia while others stir up emotions to which even I am not aware of until that moment. Some are insightful and some tug my heart strings in the most poignant yet ravishing way possible. The inexplicable relationship which I share with books is both incoherent  and imperative. Reading is a medium of discovery of not only other people, places and customs but also of one self. The words in black ink lead us to the darkest alleys of our mind, suddenly awakening our dormant conscience like the first rain of monsoon on barren soil. Reading I believe, is looking into the souls of others while writing is baring our souls to others.