on books and dad

The other day dad was clearing out our old apartment to lease it out when he chanced upon my treasure trove of books. Instead of selling them off to the raddhi wala along with the newspapers he stacked them neatly into cartons and shipped them off to our native place in Srikakulam. He then called me.
“ You read so many books ?”
that should explain why I knew jack regarding kinematics and dynamics of machines or the whole sea of mechanical engineering for that matter.
“Reading books is a very good habit, I agree. But why are all those books novels/comics/fiction ? aka not even anywhere close to work or life skills ?”
dad… they appeal to me more than gears or friction between ball bearings.
“ Do you write as well or only read ?”
“But, but, you should write no ? Why read all those books if you cant write meaningful inferences from what you’ve read? Write research papers/editorials/Wikipedia articles, create a niche for yourself  no ? ”
Let me think about it.