Half Read Books On My Bookshelf

TO THE DEAREST HALF-READ BOOKS ON MY BOOKSHELF,

My friends start calling me a bibliophile in 9th standard when they used to visit me and went all crazy looking at my huge collection of books.

But I guess my relationship with Books was not as beautiful as it appeared to be or maybe it still isn't.

The count of incomplete books on my bookshelf has reached 23 and I cannot be guiltier than I am right now. This is an apology to every book that I've left on the 50th or 70th or 195th page.

The letters to Milena has been put in the farthest corner of the shelf because Kafka makes me cry at every sentence. He misses Milena '"senselessly, unfathomably, terribly, deeply'" and that makes me remember someone for whom I've been writing unanswered letters. Kafka mirrors my misery.

I used to read Gitanjali every night before sleeping and used to send the most beautiful lines to the one with whom I shared my sleep schedule. After him, it's insomnia that I've befriended, and Gitanjali doesn't soothe me anymore. It lies next to The Prophet. To all the poetry books and unfinished poems, I'm sorry. I was lost in the metaphors of life and trust me, my suffering seemed unending.

It has been many months and I've finally started to miss the fragrance of ink smeared pages carrying tragedies and happiness on every corner. I apologize for forgetting you and living life ignorant of your existence. I'm sorry for the separation.