In books can we travel to places that would have never existed.
Tolkien’s Middle Earth, GRRM’s Westeros, JK Rowling’s Hogwarts, CS Lewis’s Narnia. So many more that we have not read, so many others that are still locked into our minds.
In books can we take down science and travel to the past, the future or to the mythology of the distant.
Ved Vyas’s Mahabharat, Plato’s Allegories, Confucius’s words. Mysterious science experiments. The fancy and yet elusive lightsabers, flying cars.
Twisting forces whenever and wherever it may please the author, the creator.
In books can we try to triumph over the dis-balance of economies in the world.
Though we might never travel to the South or the East or the West because there happens to be something called the power of currencies which is so less for so many of us out here, and yet through books can we see the land so different from ours.
In books can we collapse space and time.
The stories of the Hubble Telescope, the discoveries about the Universe, Heroes who conquered the North Pole. The snow of Sagarmatha (Everest) and the waters of Antarctica.
In books can we embrace the ideologies of the great.
Gandhi. Mother Teresa. Newton. Einstein. Heller Keller. Stephen Hawking. Faraday.
In books can we discover ourselves.
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