Some books stay with us, some shadow us, some prod us to shift focus and move on, while others add a new dimension to the world as we know it.

One such book was ‘A Stone for Danny Fisher’ by Harold Robbins.

Not that it had any life-changing dynamics to introduce into my new teen life. Back then I was like a sponge: a wide-eyed, albeit slow-to-the-cue teenager, who allowed words to lead her on to a world far removed from the one she occupied, with the clay divan – smoothened with a coat of cement – providing the prop for the transition.

All that that remained from the residue of that book was the act of placing a stone on the grave of a loved one. The plot, the characters, the drama; the passage of time woven into the fiction; the impact of the book when it was first read, and reread…all forgotten. Only the stone remained. As a memory…not as an act that needed to be replicated during cemetery visits.

Then there was Scarlett O’Hara from the classic ‘Gone with the Wind’ by Margaret Mitchell.  That character held my attention long after I traversed out of my comfort zone. It still provokes me, that one indelible line on reputation and freedom (Google search states the line as follows: ‘Until you have lost your reputation, you never realize what a burden it was or what freedom really is.’)

Without reading any slur in the reputation part, I reveled in repeating that quotable quote (in my mind), realizing the truth behind each word. Failing to give it a try, though.

There are countless books and characters to sift through and authors to emulate when you seek inspiration to inject the present and the future with newer perspectives.

But as age catches up and reading becomes a chore, books that once felt like lifelines may fade into memories of another time, another you. They erase the recollection of a life once spawned by pages of books, folded and refolded, of metaphors that once set the creative clock ticking. The bookshelf remains; packed with books, ensuring all is well with the world.