An Interview
Kindle: Hello, miss, we are so glad to have you ('not really'), one of the middle generations of your community, with the many scars life gave you. There is only just one question for you. You have been twisted around at the edges, sharp and blunt pens and pencils have written on your chest by the grace of your many readers, people have cried all over you at places. You have passed through many hands, old and young, clean and dirty, soft and rough. Your backbone and your midriff is not in a very good condition. You have been tossed around carelessly, kept between angry, stiff books. At places, you have even been...um mutilated ('so weak'). Then, why do you continue to do your work? And in your form? You can easily upgrade to your distant but youthful relatives, E-books that have me as their shelter. Why don't you do that?
A Tactile Book: Hmm...good question. I could be an E-book. And I could cease to be in my uncomfortable, tactile, original self. Many have done it. Why I choose to remain myself, then? Well, there are several reasons. There is definitely a big advantage, being an E-book over being me. And if I had been asked to change to an E-book some shelf-years back, I would've definitely agreed. But now... let's just say I'm too comfortable in my own skin. You say I'm twisted and scribbled on. You say there are tear drops on my body. And there are many other things as well that you might not want to know. Then, as you say, I have passed through many hands. My backbone ain't in the best of health. There are cracks right there. And I'm just thrown and tossed around. And well, I have to agree being mutilated hurts. It hurts a lot, especially if it happens from the backbone instead of from my edges. And tapes work okay, but they are ultimately tapes and get dirty if not changed. So yes, I tolerate a lot. A very lot. And a not very handsome lot. But–and let me be philosophical here–the end is happy. The readers (excepting few ingrates) have such love and respect for me and the words within me. They sleep with me as if I am a stuff toy. As if I'll ward off any fear at night. As if I can be hugged when loneliness ensues. People find solace in me. They laugh, they cry, they smile, they scoff, they frown, they shiver, they recoil with disgust. It's fun to see a human feel all these emotions. And being tactile, I feel and not just see what they feel. At the end of the day, they learn. I might be a gnarled, old copy of some maniac's exxagerated imagination (or sanity solidified) but I exist within all those who've read me and not just read me but touched me, felt me and smelt me. That is why I still exist.
Author's note: This is only an imagination of what a tactile book will say to a Kindle. This story does not disregard the advantages or discourage the use of E-books and Kindle, especially because I use those myself.
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