by Vinita Agrawal
I miss the silver fish
I miss the mouldy smell
I miss the delicate ageing
That crumbling pages tell
The golden ochre hue
Of a book that’s very old
May look unexciting
To me it’s precious gold
The dog-eared tender edges
At the corner of every page
Are endearing measures
Of glorious reading days
The covers! Ah! The covers
They settle in my heart
When days are rough and misty
They play the sunny part
I am in love with wormholes
And the squiggly little tracks
They add so much history
Of insects to my racks
Let me tell you now
The thing about a book
You pick one up and trust me
For life you are hooked
How can you even compare
A screen of gorilla glass
To crisp and robust pages
That don’t need electricity to last
You really should take
Your favourite book to bed
Cuddle it and cherish it
Get digital out of your head
A book’s softly rustling form
Will fan your gentle dreams
You’ll forget neon panes
In the world of paper reams.
Vinita is a Delhi based writer and poet and has been published in international print and online journals.
No technology can give you the feeling that you get with a real book. very nice poem.
Ah the sweet smell of a brand new book!