The day the books quit| Story by Ruhan, 10, Delhi

It was two hours since I hit the sack when I heard a flap. I woke up and saw the trail of my books walking away. I was appalled!

They went across the main gate discreetly. I smelled a rat but before I could ask them what the matter is, they ran away and turned deaf ears towards me. I scrambled out of my bed. My books looked pensive and infuriated as they headed towards the parking area. I couldn’t believe my eyes, the Lancer car I coloured the other day popped out as a real one, all books sat in and vroom they were gone.

I jumped in my car and drove as fast as I could. I eavesdropped and overheard them saying that my book rack was gloomy and suffocating, so they were moving to the mall’s bookstore for someone else to buy them.

With my window opened, I cried out loud and promised to keep them meticulously in a tranquil ventilated well-lit place, but all in vain. I tried hard to persuade and thankfully they agreed to give me the benefit of doubt.

I returned home with my precious treasure. Without losing a minute, I made a book rack out of scrap cardboard, glue, paint and glitter. It looked terrific and stunned my books too. They were startled to see the magnificent reading corner. I read regularly now. My dearest books and I exuberantly share the same space and are with each other through thick and thin.

“A room without books is like a body without soul”