In the corner of my room is my bookshelf. It’s
adorned with some of my favorites and then some which are yet to be read. I
have spent days contemplating the order and time I will read these books in.
Which I will revisit and which are just for collection. There is one book there
which has not seen the light of day since I put it there - the dictionary.
We all have that blue cover Collins or Oxford giant
in our home. At times we decide on the ‘pocket version’ which is not meant for
the pocket, thinking that it’ll be easier to access and use. We hope and at
times believe that the smaller the dictionary, the more it will be used. I have
had a variety of dictionaries in the past 21 years ranging from the classic
Hindi to English and vice versa, as well as the standard Oxford “pocket”
dictionary. How many times I have actually used the dictionary as a medium of
knowledge? The answer hovers somewhere near a dozen.
We usually become adept readers at the age of 12 and
would have teachers constantly nagging us to use a dictionary. As a child I was
never interested in even looking at a dictionary. The small amount of work and
watching TV was enough to pass my day and forget about anything else. A book
full of words that are difficult and weird sounding was never an attractive thing
to keep myself occupied with.
If only I had paid attention, I wouldn’t have faced embarrassment
of epic proportions later in higher classes. But I learnt and conquered the
essentials of a dictionary and then I bought a new one. The fresh covers made
it irresistible like any other new book. However unlike others it remains
tucked in the corner coming out rarely. Its only use now is for the occasional glance
it gets and the satisfaction that follows it.
