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The reason I started this blog is to figure myself out; what brings me joy and what doesn’t. So, for the first few posts, I will document the things I genuinely enjoy doing and the things I would do it for free.

One of those things is reading. I love books. I also love writing. Writing calms me down, while reading gives me a sense of peace.

I don’t exactly know when my love for reading and writing began, but it most likely started in childhood. I spent a lot of time alone growing up because my parents are entrepreneurs and worked full-time at their business. During those quiet moments, I would read the monthly journals my mom subscribed to for me.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of sitting on the front veranda of our house, surrounded by natural light, reading those journals for hours. They covered many different topics; lessons about kindness, and reflections on how to become a good human being at heart. Almost every story carried a meaningful lesson.

As I grew older and started learning English, I began reading English magazines as well. Again, my mom made sure I had monthly subscriptions, and I always looked forward to the day they arrived. Later, when my English improved, I joined a couple of local libraries and started borrowing novels. That’s when my love for reading truly exploded, and my happiness multiplied, because I could borrow as many books as I want. The only limitation is my physical strength to carry those books back home.

Fast forward to today, amidst the ups and downs of daily life – the joys, disappointments, and constant noise of adulthood – reading still gives me peace. It takes me back to that quiet escape, where for a moment I can forget about the frustrations that everyday life throws at us.