Addiction

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He was unusually impatient after having exhausted all his books, rereading some twice and even thrice.  He was itching to lay his hands on a new one quickly.

The anxiety of being reduced to a cage was raging inside his mind as all the shops stood closed and online delivery halted because of the continuing rise in COVID19 cases.

Trying to divert his attention by pretending to read online, he couldn’t sustain it for more than a few seconds as his eyes drooped and body began to ache within the first two lines.  The agony of not being able to smell the old ink and feel the soft touch of a paper drove him into a mini-depression again.

Not able to take it any longer, he tried tricking his brain by getting hold of some old newspaper editorials when suddenly he felt as if his mind has exploded, turning into a stubborn little child not willing to settle for anything else than a new book. 

Nervously recollecting from his memory of an old book his teacher gave him as a gift on his birthday, and wrapped in a rather filthy cover, enveloped with a thick layer of dust, he lunged towards the old attic.

Pulling the old handle carved in the shape of a tiger, he pushed it to explore what’s inside.  Defective appliances cluttered the floor, one thing though piqued his interest. 

His stubborn mind wandered for a moment realizing, he found out the old ring the entire house was searching for during the last new year.

A subtle smile appeared on his face for a split second before quickly recollecting the reason for coming aboard.

Pushing through a pile of junk, he noticed the red color reflecting in darkness as his hands furiously began shoving away everything in-between to finally touch the once discarded but now coveted novel.

Creating a trail of dust marks on the floor while pulling the book towards him, he banged it hard against the door to remove the dust and reveal its title.

‘The Life of an Indian Crow’ lay embossed on the cover as drops of sweat, till now sitting comfortably on the edge of his eye brows, finally fell on the new book.

Although, wiggling his head in disbelief after reading the title, he also felt some strange vicarious pleasure as his fingers began turning the pages quickly to satisfy the urge of finally reading a new book.