Savouring crunchy toasts spread by orange chocolate full of irresistible aromatic flavour, sipping a cup of tea whose fragrance refreshes my brain as usual, listening to a routine radio programme whereby I may flick through what is occurring today, all of a sudden, I come up with a question why there are only few who I can recommend a new book to whenever I discover one inadvertently.
No wonder that many of us living in Asian countries are addictive to a prodigal lifestyle: the millennia are desperately amassing their fortune so as to enjoy fancy cars, posh restaurants, luxury accessories. Books that should have been treated as invaluable wealth are obsolete or omitted unless they are a recipe for success. If going for a stroll anywhere in a city, you could easily eavesdrop on the fact that both the haves and have-nots invariably either natter about what businesses are more lucrative or sit at a table in a restaurant for the purpose of seeking any channel that may lead them to being a billionaire.
Some critics may argue that students in the nation who have been working industriously are in fact very academic. Yet the truth is fewer and fewer young teens are enthusiastic for pursuing boundless knowledge instead more and more the juveniles straightforwardly follow suite - rudimentary western-style in which using all sorts of techniques boost their libidinous desire and maximise hedonism. Those who have to study hard absolutely have no choice to swap alternatives so that once they are entering into career life there is no need to carry on any study particularly reading good books that I believe give a credit for marvellous literary.
Should everyone turn into erudite polymaths or bibliophiles in today's society? I guess not, otherwise the world as nature is losing its diversity rapidly would become a monochrome entity. What matters most in my view is how an individual meditates their mind from various books rather than make our physical body spiritlessly perpetuate in the world.