The Reading List

Mummy’s book – well … library book,’ Rohini said. ‘I thought I’d returned them all, but I must have missed this one.’ She held it up to him and he walked forward, not quite believing it. As though this dusty, icky, sticky book was some kind of mirage. When he’d seen the other relics of her life, he’d barely felt a thing. But here, seeing this book, the grey dust sticking to the plastic cover in splotches, it was like Naina was here in the room with them. Here, with his three girls, and one of Naina’s beloved books, for a moment, just a moment, he didn’t feel so alone.

But, as he picked the book up, he saw a Post-it note stuck to the table in its place. He peeled it off, carefully, and brought it close to his face. His eyesight wasn’t as it had once been, before the hours and hours of reading in his dimly lit flat. The Post-it note was covered in handwriting, an elaborate scrawl of letters.
I know this isn’t your usual thing, but I read To Kill a Mockingbird when I was 21 and going through a hard time – it taught me a lot back then, and I got to see the world through the eyes of a child once more, the good and the bad. It was an escape for me, I threw myself into the world, into the injustices, into the characters, and it was the respite I needed from my own life – for it helped me care deeply about someone else’s. I hope it can be an escape, a bit of respite, for you too. Sometimes, books just take us away for a little while, and return us to our place with a new perspective.

Mukesh wasn’t used to people talking about such things, about the doctor, about mental health problems. He felt embarrassed, but Aleisha needed someone to be there for her. He could do that. He might not be super knowledgeable, but he could listen, or find another way to talk.
‘I think … I think Beloved is helpful,’ he said, cautiously. ‘The book. Did you read it?’
Aleisha’s eyes shot towards him. ‘I don’t want to think about books any more.’
‘No, Miss Aleisha, I hadn’t thought of it before, but books can help us too.’

Even after all her reading, all her snooping, she wasn’t sure she was any closer to the person who had written it, but she was enjoying the journey. She’d appreciated reading again – before the list, it had been so long since she’d sat down and just allowed herself to get lost in a book. Life felt too busy, it had felt like an indulgence she couldn’t afford.
But the list had given her so much – she enjoyed speaking to people here, and in this new city, where life never seemed to stand still, it had given her a place just to be.

Hi Dad,’ Deepali said. ‘I … I was just popping in to say hi. But … I should have called, I, er, didn’t realize you’d have company. I’d better go.’
‘Goodbye, Nilakshimasi. Nice to see you,’ she said, turning to Nilakshi once more.
Before Mukesh could get to the doorstep, Deepali was already in her car, the engine started, ready to go.
The excitement from his conversation with Aleisha had vanished completely. He watched his daughter drive away as Nilakshi clamped a hand on his shoulder. ‘Mukesh, we are just friends. We both know this, your daughters – of course they’ll understand.’
But Mukesh knew they wouldn’t. He had disappointed them – he had seen Deepali’s face drop. Speaking to Aleisha might have made Mrs Danvers disappear, but Deepali had brought her flying back again and Naina was nowhere to be seen, felt or heard.

Yes, yes, you are right. Well, then that is a little flavour.’ He moved onto the next one: Rebecca. He began describing the book by going ‘Ooo,’ in what he hoped was an atmospheric, spooky way, but actually he sounded like an old grandfather with some joint pain.

‘Are you okay, Dada? Do you want to sit on this seat, it has more padding?’ Priya stood up and pointed to the cushion underneath her.

‘Na, beta, it’s okay, I am okay, just a little twinge,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘Where was I? … Oh, yes. Do you remember your summer holidays to Cornwall?’

‘Yes, Dada, of course.’

‘Well, you know all those cliffs, the rough waves.’

‘Yes, Dada.’

‘Well, imagine a large house not far from there, and a ghost of a woman walking the halls … that’s how Rebecca really builds the atmosphere, spooky, and eerie, and I think the landscape is a person in itself! I don’t know if it really is Cornwall in the book, but it sounds like it. Did Cornwall ever feel like that to you?’

For a split second, Mukesh was watching himself – and he couldn’t quite believe it. He was discussing books as if he knew what he was talking about. He sounded like an English teacher, maybe even a librarian. He felt

The two of them stopped as they entered the bookshop, their eyes caught by the books in the windows – a whole scene was captured on the glass itself, a sea and an orange-pink sunset showcasing books, all different sizes and colours. The waves, the deep blue of the sea, reminded Mukesh of Pi, his ocean, his lifeboat and his tiger.
‘Wow!’ Priya gasped, quietly. She quickly shook off her awe, trying to play it cool. Mukesh felt the same. He’d seen books now, but the library was sparse compared to this. Shelves and shelves. Floors and floors. Tables and tables. Piles and piles of books. It was as though they were floating all around him, lifted up by some kind of magic, offering up new worlds, new experiences. It was beautiful.