Sometimes it's hard to believe I've been writing for the last five years. Yes, that's how old my blog becomes on the 28th of this month. And to think I've been reading for more than 4 times as many years - it's surreal. The very sight, touch and smell of a book in my hand is like opium in the hands of an addict. I cannot imagine my life without books. I'd literally be lost. And yet, the most embarrassing and unimaginable fact about this whole lifetime of reading and writing is that I haven't been to the World Book Fair even once. You read that right. Not once. I once visited the Delhi Book Fair, though, but that doesn't count, because it lacked the charm of an international book fair. The world book fair kept eluding me every year - most of the times I'd have exams, at other times I'd have to be somewhere else. But all that is in the past now.
Because I finally got to pay my obeisance at the World Book Fair 2015 yesterday - the last day of the event, no less. There were books and only books everywhere I could see. A lot of book lovers and fellow fanatics like me too, which made it totally my kind of social gathering. And it was pure, unadulterated fun.