Between Spaces

I have been reading a book about mathematics recently. It is a subject I used to avoid like most people. Ironically, it is somehow coming back into my life as a total game-changer. It is only the second or third math-related book I have picked up outside of my research. Somehow, it was enough to make my father wonder. He asked when I started reading 'such books.' His tone carried that familiar, subtle sarcasm. It felt like classic rage-baiting. When you are the youngest in the family, though, you learn to adapt. You either ignore it or offer a quiet comeback. Dealing with this kind of family dynamic is just exhausting. Ignoring the rage-baiting takes way more effort than a physical workout.

I didn't pay much attention to his comments at first. Later, I got two classic Marathi poetry collections as gifts, and his reaction was exactly the same. I couldn't help but pause. It made me realize something funny. People, even those closest to us, don't always know who we are right now. A single, older version of us just gets stuck in their heads. It makes it completely shocking for them to witness any new change or quiet growth. I wonder what version of me he still carries around. Am I still just the irritating youngest kid? Is it the default 'you cannot do this because you are a kid' thought? Or does he look at me and think I am acting oversmart since moving to a different city? Maybe it is something completely different. Back then, I wasn't a reader. At least, that is what they all believed. I never bothered to correct them or try to change their opinion. I just quietly grew into someone else while they were busy noticing other things.

That someone else now lives in a temporary space: a shared hostel room. It has a classic old Godrej cupboard and a shelf with exactly four compartments. One section of the cupboard is stuffed with books, notebooks, and related things. The rest somehow manages my clothes and miscellaneous life. Two of the shelf compartments are already overflowing with books. I genuinely do not have the space in that room for more books. Yet, I have already received three books as gifts this year (I love it anyways!). I have tried everything to save money and space. Audiobooks, Storytel, Kindle, Kobo, Apple Books, you name it. But physical books just keep finding their way to me. I have another temporary space: my parents' home. Honestly, I don't want to build my library in a space where I have to justify it or hear judgments. Finding myself between spaces like this feels strange.

It has also made me incredibly protective of the physical collection I do have. My elder brother is the only person I don't mind giving them away to without a second thought. For anyone else, it depends on our relationship, your personality, and my personal judgment of you. You might get to borrow one, but strictly for no more than a week. It sounds exactly like a strict, government-aided library rule, haha! Because I am so particular about my books, I keep track of everything. I am a list-maker usually for other people. I make grocery lists for my parents. I list things to send to my brother, and things to do when I finally meet up with my best friend. But for myself, there is only one list that truly matters. A list of books. So far this year, there are fourteen books I want to read. Around ten of them are waiting on my Kindle. Two are strictly available offline, and two are entirely out of print.

I might not be the version of myself my family remembers. My little hostel room might be running out of physical space, too. But this reading list keeps updating. Searching for those two out-of-print books feels like building my own world. Making a little more room on a crowded shelf is a quiet victory. It is a gentle place that belongs only to me, growing one page at a time. I sometimes sit with this 'I know I cannot control this' sadness as I crave a space entirely of my own. The good thing? I am deeply hopeful. I know I will have one in the near future. Just a normal, quiet home where my books, my papers, and my artworks will finally have a place to belong right alongside me.

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