autobiography of book (500)points
Answers
I am made up of pages that come from wood pulp. It takes a long time for me to come to my final shape. The trees are first cut down and wood pulp is prepared from them. Many other chemicals and raw materials are added to it. After a long period of processing, my pages begin to take shape.
These pages are then sorted and piled Many words are printed on them. Sometimes pictures, maps, tables and figures are also drawn. Different colourful photographs are am given a beautiful cover. I feel brand new and very smart the day I am given my final touch.
I reach the book-stall and am placed on the display window overlooking the street. I can watch all the people go by. Sometimes someone stop by to look at me. I can tell at one glance whether or not they will treat me well. If I go into good hands, I remain clean and intact. I live for a long time. But if a careless person buys me, my pages are torn, and all sorts of rubbish is written on me. I feel very sad if this happens.
My main aim is to give pleasure to whoever reads me. I can become a very good friend of my owner too, if I give him great enjoyment. I feel very beautiful and soft when I have poetry printed on me. The language of my text does not matter. All I want is that whoever holds me should treat me gently and with care. I hope everyone will begin to do so.
Answer:
There was a time when people looked towards me for medicinal purposes. Then there came a time when they looked at me for knowledge. Now, of course, I am an old book, collecting dust in a corner shelf of the library in Town Hall.
Lying on this shelf, I sometimes recall those good old days when I was an eucalyptus tree providing medicinal eucalyptus oil. Those were my happy days. Then one day, some burly men came with a mechanical saw and cut my happy days. They handled me roughly, gave me a bumpy ride in a beat up truck and then flattened me into sheets of paper.
I was sent to the printing press. From there I came out as a hardbound book ready for sale. Call it my luck. I was bought to be placed in this library and during the decades that followed, many people borrowed me and read me. Some of them penciled on me and some dog-eared me. Whatever. At least, they all used me to enhance their knowledge.
Now, of course, nobody picks me up anymore. For that matter nobody comes to this library. Some of the books stacked near me, talk in whispers about e-books. The moment I hear that word, I can feel the goose bumps rise all over me. Wonder what will happen to us all books in this library.