Reclaiming a lost childhood

No, I didn't have a deprived childhood; quite the opposite, actually. I'm not talking about material, or even emotional needs here; I'm talking about books.

You heard me. Books. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I have my nose inside a book most of the time, and I've been that way right from childhood. However, after coming to the USA, I see before me a far wider array of books than I could even hope to get access to in those days. All the things I was fond of, and fantasized about, when I was in my early teens: starships, time travel, robots, swordsmen, dragons, wizards, and so on, wrought in black and white letters... and to me, black and white letters are good enough to conjure up vivid three dimensional images, sounds and feelings in my head.

So, although I had tons of books to read, the ones I love best were in short supply. Now, like a maniac, I've been reading all such books in an attempt to "reclaim my lost childhood". This weird mixture of refusing to grow up in some respects and lecturing like a veteran in other respects is amusing and annoying at the same time. And yet, I can't help but be me.

Cheers,
Prashanth.

Last book I read: The White Gryphon by Mercedes Lackey