When I was a little kid, I perceived the world to be very small. Well, even now my knowledge is quite limited. If you ask me where Cuba is, I’d just shrug and say I have no idea! Anyway, back to tiny me. I thought that the books I could read was limited to Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. Yes, I was really small then. This is a memory I have of a time when I don’t really remember anything else, and I do cherish it. I even remember the covers of the Cinderella category books in the library.
I learnt better quite a while later on. I loved books, but access to it was quite limited. But. I had these three books that belonged from the same publisher or something: The hound of the Baskervilles, Monte Christo, and Jane Eyre. I had these during the times when I felt like I had to read something to keep me normal. And I realise now I had a vivid imagination. I have every scene of the book taped out in my mind, even the dress that Sherlock Holmes wore at the climax (green and black chequered jacket). And, I had a deep curiosity towards hounds and phosphor. I loved Monte Christo too, a sad story about an admirable man. And lastly Jane Eyre. The story used to make me so sad. Even though it had a happy ending of sorts, its only after so much laborious hardships. I think I was affected quite deeply by it. I proved it over again today when I went to the movie of the same. I could recall the same instances from the book, I could even recall exact sentences from it. The movie brought out a wave of emotions that I believe was conceived not just now , but years ago when I read the book. I lived through Jane's life, and felt her love and then her anguished heart. But, I did not feel it the same way now. On the contrary, I felt enraged. How could she not fall in love ? He eludes so much confidence, and arrogance. He is at the absolute unattainable pinnacle and yet he sought after her.
The woes of a governess!!
Sigh
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