Is it just me, or is this really how it feels when you are nearly completing that special book you get to read once in a life time? For the first time, I have read a book so slowly, fearing it will get over too soon- the same way I eat my favourite food. Enjoying every morsel, every moment of my being with it.

I have 20 pages to finish my book (Paulo Coehlo’s The Witch of Portobello) and I am feeling this weird sense of incompleteness and sadness filling me. It feels like I am going to miss it. I know it wont be the same with me and the book once it is over because though I wont remember every single word on every single page, the book will have already made a mark and rereading it wont make it different. I have a lot of books lined up after this, but I know, they would be different. A different experience, a different meaning and a completely new relationship till I turn to the last page to finish it.

The Witch of Portobello will always be on my bookshelf and in my soul. I promise not to reread it- it will just make it stale.