Bibliophilia

Books. The very word has an effect on me that many people may associate with coitus. Its a love that is inches away from becoming a mania. And its not only about the contents of books, but their smell, their texture and how the pages feel underneath my fingers. Few people understand this kind of adoration.
Books have been the solace of many souls. They offer an escape to worlds so far from reality, where tranquility is akin to oxygen.  So tired of practicality and routine, books allow the mind to roam in vast worlds with no law and order, where anything imaginable is acceptable. I'm addicted to that.
Bibliophiles understand the joys of being lost into the world painted by words. The joy of entering a library or a second hand bookstore and just running your fingers down the spines of all those chests of knowledge and mysteriously feeling as if you are absorbing all their wisdom through your skin. It makes my brain swirl and be ecstatic. A high that no drug, no matter how potent can match.
My respect goes to all bookworms to whom books are opium, and whose private rooms are too modest to be branded libraries, yet are full of books. Individuals to whom reading is much more than a leisure, but a religion and a way of life. As Macaulay so full of insight wrote " What a blessing it is to love books... To be able to converse with the dead, and to live amidst the unreal!"