Autobiography of Agatha Christie

One among the many fine things that I want to accomplish this year, is to invest my minimal mind on biographies, especially, of authors. Biographies, unlike fictions, in general, will demand lots of patience, acute concentration and undying will, if one want to traverse till the last page. Fail to retain those specifications, will turn a inspiring account to inducer of sleep, and the readers could be readily seen dozing off with toppled spectacles and thick volume of book at hand. To put in a nutshell, biographies cannot be completed, unless, some efforts has been embarked from the side of reader.

Knowing the sides of disadvantages, didn’t flinch me a bit, for my thirst to peep into others life was enormous, and that made me not hesitate to grab ‘Autobiography of Agatha Christie’ at the Chennai book fair which I happened to visit on January. I am quite a fan of this queen of mystery. I have read handful of her novels and I must say, I am rather intrigued. Her baffling mysterious novels always make me feel, Infosys, delayed by a quarter of century, missed out one of the most potential puzzle setter for their campus recruitment papers.  Well, too late to worry.

I devoted my attention to this 550 pages book immediately after I had bought it home. However high my spirit was, to steal a look on others life, I must confess that I accepted the defeat at first, for I couldn’t penetrate beyond 150 pages. The childhood of Agatha’s was hopelessly boring and explained endlessly .The mere mention of her dog which she had happened to love lastingly, didn’t appeal to me at all.  Soon, I slept off, the thing I always disgust to do while I am in the middle of reading. There after, I didn’t touch the book.

Last week, I was deprived of sleep due to constant stress and my disposition was to read anything that could ease me in deep nap. Agatha appeared before my eyes and hoping to sleep soon, I set to read the book again. To my surprise, I find it interesting. Instead of inducing to deep slumber, I found myself engrossed by her adulthood, subsequent marriages and her wide interest in touring all over the world.  True, even after 150 pages, the book had moments to stimulate sleep. And with strong reslove, I overcame it and finished the book at last.

You may ask, Does it worth the pain ?

Yes, definitely.

True stories, often, lack the grip, but never fail to stir.

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