I read everywhere and anywhere, but rarely do I find the perfect reading spot. What makes a good spot - the ambience, the absolute concentration on the task at hand, the silence and peace? Or the simplicity of knowing that it feels just right. Sometimes, or rather most occassions, they are memorable because of the moments you attach to it.
A selection of my favourites:
1. On a rusty bench by the River Avon in Bradford-Upon-Avon (United Kingdom)
There is a rusty bench by a small stone bridge that I once spent a good few hours sitting on. I perchanced upon it when I decided, at the spur of the moment, to take the train to see what a village with hyphenated names would look like. Typically English, glorious summer's day; these factors I believe were essential for my aimless meanderings. With a box of fresh raspberries from the local grocers and Vikram Seth's 'An Equal Music' purchased from a small bookstore close by, I walked, and I found, the most perfect place and the most perfect book to let time pass idly by.
2. Squashed in commuter trains, sitting or standing (Tokyo and Singapore)
I love reading in Tokyo trains because everyone is doing the same. It was also where I realised I wasn't alone in attempting Sudoku with a pen. Blending in the literary masses is empowering, like a secret acknowledgement that you and me are really quite similar, without knowing through conversation.
In contrast, in Singapore, I read to escape from reality. Time passes quickly, my station comes and I exit through the doors, gasping for freedom.
3. By the River Torrens (Adelaide, Australia)
Hardly a river most times, especially in comparison with the busty Yarra and Swan. And yet the most intimate, particularly when the ducks come past to see if you're hiding something worth tasting. A river forms a reflection of her city, and the Torrens I believe, beats in asynchrony - subtle, independent and impervious - as Adelaide's quiet charm hums the familiar tune of a town I love dearly in my heart.
Not recommended in the evenings, for drug abusers are abound.
4. Inside a cafe, on a very cold foggy winter's morning, facing the Edinburgh Castle high above, sipping a hot chocolate and eating a croissant (Scotland)
You must understand: all those factors are very important. An equation is an incomplete statement without its expressions. This perfect reading spot is impossible without all those qualities caressing a melancholic heart.
I remember the book distinctly - David Nicholls' 'One Day'. A book I would, in perfect honesty, not have purchased if not for its abundant presence, the exuberant signs extolling its position atop the bestsellers' list and a promise that love, really, is something that no one understands. When Emma and Dexter were orchestrating their musings on Arthur's Seat, I turned my position eastwards and stared at said hill, wondering, just thinking, if that moment was frozen in time because of the weight of its emotional beauty, or because the icy winds had solidified the bollocks out of it.
5. With someone you love by your side, also reading. (Anywhere)
The wonderful thing about this statement is that it defies person, logic and time. For example, someone I used to love may not fit in so nicely now because, understandably, I would not want to be in the same radius of existence as he. It is just a description of a particular time, in any particular place, when a particular person brings about a particular side of you that you never knew existed.
But what is so amazing about this is the creative utilisation of comfortable silence - the hallmark of a beautiful relationship in my eyes. If a bunch of Japanese in a subway reading together with me is empowering (read point 2 above), this is mind-blowing.
It spells independence without loneliness, warmth regardless of weather and a sense of belonging without burden.
It is about two people enjoying the things that matter: each other and a bloody good book.
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