This one is more practical to deal with. Hobbies have been many through the growing years. But, as far back as I can remember, I was an avid reader. I spent a great deal of my childhood years first reading comics, then moving on to Enid Blyton, Perry Mason and graduated to James Hadley Chase, Harold Robbins and so on.
I can never forget the one incident how when I was about seven years of age, I had gone to visit my mom's relatives with her one morning. After spending a couple of hours there, when my mom got up to leave for home, she found me missing.
She was under the impression that I was somewhere in the house playing with the other kids there. But, after looking frantically around and realising that she had not seen me since we had entered their house four hours back, she panicked. Everyone at that place went darting around looking for me all over their neighbourhood. To make matters worse, their house was situated right in front of a railway track and my long absence was very ominous.
Then suddenly like out of the blue I walked out of their poorly lit storeroom to everybody's disbelief. I explained how someone had shown me that place where they kept all their old magazines. And I had gone in to pick up a few and ended up sitting there on a small cardboard box under a single naked bulb in the dark storeroom; paging one by one through hundreds of magazines reading through the comic strips in each! |
