In my family, we have a practical habit which has now become a tradition, which is that of covering all our books with old newspaper. Well the newspapers to begin with are all quite new and glossy but time soon does its magic and they take on that yellowish tinge that we are so familiar with. A glance at the bookshelves is always a pleasing array of bits of colours and text which is just so homey. My favourite part is the ability to glance at the books with their titles hidden behind their covers but still know exactly which book it is just by looking at it! Infact every time I pick up a book to read, I also inevitably glance through the newspaper cover to read the articles on them. We invariably use the Sunday Times Life edition as covers so there is always something quite interesting to read and a glance at the date also brings back back some nostalgia. However, as nothing lasts forever, eventually after some years have passed, we are forced to take off the faded and ragged covers and replace with new ones and then the cycle begins again. It is quite a herculean task this, replacing every book cover and I’m quite glad that I have given up numbering and labeling them as I did when I was a child. So as the dreaded task approaches me, I decided to take a moment to celebrate it, and reflect on the eternal temporariness of life, how everything always does come to an end (a sentiment expressed in the Sunday Times Life today :P). Until next time, Cheers!