I finished reading Norwegian wood by Haruki Murakami, but honestly I din’t like it, when I was reading it, it made me kinda depressed, there were suicides, physiological diseases with almost everyone related too the protagonist. And as I gave myself to the book, it din’t feel good, but I wasn’t able to leave it unfinished so I read it as fast as I could. It has been two days since then, and I have moved on to a different book but I can’t stop thinking about ‘Norwegian Wood’. Weird? Yes, that’s what I feel. Books does make an impact on us and then leave us wondering for a long time about it. I’m now selecting my books wisely, the ones that does effect but in a positive way.