Till some days ago, I had been consumed by the idea of writing. Some of my thoughts got weaved in words, some were posted on my blog, some sheltered in the crisp pages of my diary and some unfortunate ones could not get translated into right words and hence drowned in the sea of thoughts in my head.

A few days later, I was again consumed. But this time, it was by the idea of reading. I had been reading here and there at my own leisurely pace. To this, I added some enthusiasm and decided to read at a better speed. I lay my hands on the Reader’s Digest’s special edition of abridged versions of four books compiled in one. While I was going through the collection, I realized I had read at least one of the stories from each of the books. But there lay one book that seemed untouched completely. I picked it up and another one of which I recollected having read the first story. This time I had made up my mind to read all the stories of the book. Collecting the two books, I started my journey, my journey with the stories and with the characters.

Well, the first book I finished reading all the stories. I started with the story of a teenage girl trying to understand life. The next one was about this Marine expert whose love for sea was unmatched for even at his age and his adventures of thwarting a hazardous plan that could put the whole world come to a standstill. While reading his story I came to admire him a lot. With his sharp reflex and intelligence, he appeared more like a formally trained Intelligence Officer than an underwater expert. But he was only too perfect for reality.

After having finished my underwater exploration, subsequently I found myself face to face with the journey of Vinnie, an Ojibwa Indian and Alex his white friend to trace Vinnie’s brother who never returned after setting forth on a hunting trip with four people in the Canadian wilderness. It turned out to be a story of revenge that took many lives including that of the four people and Tom, Vinnie’s brother. The only idea that I carry with myself from that journey is Vinnie’s idea where he says “It needs to stop somewhere.” Violence as an answer to violence spawns more violence.

So, I had finished reading one of the books. Next book found itself in my hands too quickly. I chose to begin with the first story. It is very unlikely of me to start with the first story ever. At school, I remember reading my text books at home where I would start with the last chapter, then search for the chapters in between and then end up reading the first one. The first chapter was the most unattractive to me back in school.

The first story’s title however was quite fascinating in this compilation. The Afghan appealed to me more than the rest of them. Thus I set upon this trail of Mike Martin, a retired British Officer, who disguises himself as the Afghan, taken by the American forces and put in Guantanamo Bay. After a period of training on the various aspects of the Afghan’s life, his childhood events, his language, Martin finally finds himself on the most important project of the Al Qaeda forces. The plot is unknown to the American and British. And Martin is the one who shoulders the responsibility of being the key to unearth it. The plot doesn’t get to its desired end by the schemers.

The end was not to my liking but it was real. How badly I wanted Martin to be alive. How I also wished the Afghan and Martin crossed their paths once again. The Afghan had been once saved by Martin and I would have liked to see when both stood opposite each other. How I also wanted the story to not end. Besides, I wished I had laid my hands on the original and not the abridged version.

Now the next story lays there. It looks at me, all set to offer itself for a read. I begin with the first page. I try reading but just can’t focus. Mike Martin and the Afghan have consumed me entirely that I have to take a break so that the rest of the journeys become as interesting as the previous ones.