You and I might not know each other. We have no relationship. We aren’t friends and we share no bond. Yet, when I see the stranger in the bus reading Tuesdays with Morrie, I smile. He catches an immediate flicker of recognition on my face. We bond. We then share the relationship of readers. When the girl on the bus stop ruffles her bag and removes the copy of the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, my eyes lit up like Christmas. She becomes an instant friend. When the lady in the corner has the Fountainhead open in her lap, I think I know her. She becomes a close friend in my mind. When a tiny tear slips out of the corner of the man’s eye while reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, warmth spreads in my insides. When the little girl’s eyes are full of wonder while reading the story of The Sleeping Beauty, it makes me giddy with happiness.
You and I, we share a deeper bond than you know. When we like the same books, we automatically become one, in a way that cannot be comprehended easily. The words between the two covers might mean different to you and me, but they touch us in the same way. We laugh, we cry, we appreciate, we criticize, we love and we read. Not everybody understands our love for words, the necessity of using the correct word at the right time, but you and I will. Because we are bonded by the power of words and our love for it. They might not understand the world we create and are attached to, when we read. But you and I will. Our possessive nature for the book, pride in the fact that the pen is mightier than the sword, is what we do not have to explain to each other.
Such is our journey with words and reading, that we need no words to understand each other.