Pleasure of reading come end long Essay

Pleasure of reading come end long -Our ears had been the instruments for learning language and literature of thousands of years before writing was invented. The oldest book in the world is the Rig Veda. The four Vedas are also called Shrutis. Originally they were meant to be recited orally and to be heard. By constant repetition they came to be learnt by heart. Writing was invented long afterwards.

Literature multiplied itself with the invention of writing. Paper and the printing press brought books within the reach of millions. The earliest library was the human memory, containing, not written or printed books, but memorized literature. This library was carried in the head. But who can carry in the head the millions of books which are available today? With the art of writing and printing our memory was set free.

The pleasures of reading were now within the reach of millions. Let us recount some of these pleasures. Reading takes us out of ourselves by quickening our interest in the wonders of the world we live in. Stories, poems and songs have infinite variety. They remove the boredom and break the monotony of a humdrum life. They widen and enlarge our interests. They give to the mind a charter free as the winds. We make friends with plants, flowers, birds and beasts and other men, women and children who figure in the books we read. We even become familiar with fairies, genii, gods, goddesses and other magical beings.

We become citizens of the world when we read about strange lands and strange people. We travel not only in space from place to place but we travel also in time from age to age. All the ages of the world pass in procession before our eyes. We read the story of the world and of man’s life in the world and fairy tales of science and the wonders that would be. The future becomes an open book to us as we read about the shape of things to come.

All literature and the entire wealth of literature could not be created orally like the Vedas. Without writing and reading, literary productions would have come to an end long ago. Civilization itself would have ‘come to an end long ago, had there been no books. Literature begets literature. New lamps are lighted with the flames of old lamps. Books give us eyes and ears and minds to think and understand, and hearts to feel and sympathise.

We may to well remember the pleasures which we receive from the style of writing and from the beauty of language. Words take wings, as if by magic, when they are used by a master of style. And then there is the music of words which fmde an answering echo in our hearts, the sheer delight we get from the song

like quality of lyrical verse and prose

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