Dear Google

I cover my nose and mouth with a mask and open the book shelf. Ever since my childhood days; my immune system has rarely been able to fight dust allergy. I open the book shelf to find a dictionary. I feel I'm too dependent on 'Google' these days and I think it's high time I rebuild the bond I had with printed books.

"When did I ever buy these books? Did someone gift them to me? Or do these books belong to mom?", I think as I take out a couple of books from the shelf. I notice a book with my grandfather's name written on it with blue ink. Then I glance through the books I demanded him to buy me during my childhood days.The stories written by Enid Blyton had been my favourite those days. "The Little Old Toymaker"- this book was one of the best prizes I received in school. As a child, my eyes lit up when I had opened the book that was covered with a gift wrapping paper. On returning home for summer vacations, I had proudly shown my mother what I got from boarding school.

Years later, this book is still a part of our family. I love how my mother has taken care of all my treasures.The treasures that have kept my childhood memories intact.

Oh! It's been half an hour and I'm still unable to find that dictionary. My hands have a thin layer of dust on them. I find the translated version of Tagore's 'Gitanjali' hiding in a corner beneath some other books. "Got you", I say softly as I struggle to pull it out. I was supposed to finish reading this book two years ago. Matthew Henry, once said "Better late than never". So, I abide by his wise words and read the first song offering inscribed on Gitanjali. Wait a second, what does 'ineffable' mean? I unlock my phone and my dear 'Google' helps me find the meaning of a word yet again!

©songbriti