I have always loved sports. Not for the medals, but for what they do to you. As a child, I spent more evenings on grounds than at the study table. On athletics days I learned how to start and still push when the pain begins. Cricket, though, was different. It was a family ritual with my father and brother invested, while I absorbed and learned from the screen and their discussions.
You are anxiously waiting for the announcement of the next book from an author. The day finally arrives. You are delighted, only to realise that the book is written in a genre you rarely read. I might be going against the tide here, but mythology has never piqued my interest. I watched Ramayan and Mahabharat as a child on television because it was a family ritual. Whatever I know about this subject is based on the tidbits I heard from my grandparents and parents during my growing years. For me, it was about bonding through story-telling rather than my curiosity to delve further into this space.