“Could you please suggest some books related to self-development,” a young man asked. An appropriate answer did not strike me instantly since I had not read any specific book for my self-development as a child or an adult.
Self-development, to me, is not an end in itself but a continuous process resulting from fierce scrutiny of oneself in different times, spaces and contexts while dealing with people, places and institutions. When one is young, the family, the peer group, schools, teachers and elders become reference points. Their habits and responses to different situations intensely affect a tender mind. For instance, I have been amazed by my father’s routine of waking up at 4 a.m. and spending at least two hours on his lifelong passion for medicine, literature and poetry. I learnt from him to make sacrifices for one’s passion. Similarly, I was deeply influenced by my mother’s empathy and kindness to one and all, both critics and admirers.
Stories, fables, folk tales and classics made an indelible impact. Unfortunately, my grandparents were not alive to tell me stories, and my parents told me some. Chandamama, a children’s magazine, fulfilled that need to some extent. I read the Ramayana and the Mahabharata as a young boy, which elevated my imagination and curiosity. I listened to the Puranas and Bhagavatha. As I grew up, I read other epics, classics and literature of other cultures. I watched dance, drama and theatre. I learned to appreciate music.
