Too good....is what I begin with. It was last Friday when I got this book from the make shift pavement library just near to my yesteryear hostel. The library is just bang opposite the Bank of Baroda ATM, so the midget library wala makes full use of the light that comes from the establishment of the street lights outside the bank's ATM. I still had an hour in hand with me, as my husband would have taken that much time to meet me for the dinner at our regular eating joint. I have several of books that are not read and are comfortably resting in my shelf; still others that have been borrowed from friends, to whom I have never returned them back, nor I plan to do so in the near future, since those friends have now turned into enemies. But still the mere sight of loads of books piled up, initiates a fresh cumulus of saliva in my mouth!!
So after a full 2 minutes of pondering on whether to buy-or-not juggling in my mind, I decided to cross the road to get to the side of the open library kiosk at the pavement. I had played a deal with my wavering heart. I will and will only use the library services, I will and will not go in for the outright purchase of any book, no matter how much I loved the author, or however interesting the book could sound. The college kid with his backpack on his shoulders and glasses resting comfortably on his nose was checking me out while I was checking out the books. Even his lenses of the glasses could not make out the difference between a girl and a woman. Though he could not be blamed, I do look like a girl in her early twenties, though the reality is that I am a married woman in her early thirties. Anyways after scanning through the heaps and bounties of books stacked ranging from Mills and Boons to recent popular paper backs to Harry Potter series to the Vampire cult fiction of the teenagers, classics of Enid Blyton , Eliot and Shakespeare all was piled up neatly. Since I generally take long time before I decide upon a book to read, I was also observing the fellow shoppers. A young school going kid accompanied with her father came to the library. Her face was lit up bright with a smile. The radiating smile was obvious to the fact that her summer vacations had started and she was relieved for her schools for being shut for the same. What exactly took me with a surprise was that she knew what she wanted, she shouted “Latest Twillight” to the kiosk guy. Her father took some time in scrutinizing the cover page and the preface of the book before paying up for it. I presume he wanted to ensure it was not some adult series that his kid was planning to read on. The father glanced at me, since he noticed that I was observing him keenly. I had no other option but to smile, so as to avoid his attention. I appreciated him for taking part in encouraging his child to reading, and that to any thing else than a course book. The gentleman was generous enough to thank me back. He shared with me that he himself was a voracious reader at some point of time in his life, and loves to inculcate the same in his child.
I saw both of them leaving happily after paying up for their purchases, and I engaged myself back to my search of finding an appropriate reading material for myself. All through the time, the kiosk guy was advertising to me all the popular books that he finds circulating a lot within his customers. Little did he know that my passion of reading was not affected by the popularity of a trend or an author, but based entirely on the content of the book. After few more minutes of disarranging all from the heaps of the books, I finally found the one that I knew was fit for my reading style. It was the “The Truth, Love and a little Malice” by Khushwant Singh. It happens to be a book from one of my favourite Indian fiction writer. Also, this happens to be his semi-autobiography. What else I could have asked for. When I asked the guy that I intended to take that one home, he surprised me by showing me his surprised face. I asked him what was the matter, he simply replied, “you could have told me that you wanted something on SEX, I would have given this one to you earlier”. I was like what??? How come this sincere book on literature, by the most respected and celebrated writer of my country could be classified in the porn/adult genre? I knew there was no point arguing with him, since he happened to be a road side dweller, who although being uneducated makes a living selling books.
After paying up for my purchases, and giving the refundable deposit for keeping the book in my custody till I return it safely in one piece back to him, I walked towards the restaurant to meet my husband for the dinner. All through the walk, I kept on laughing remembering the conversation I had with the book selling guy. As usual my husband was late for the dinner and kept me waiting for about forty-five minutes. I thanked myself for buying the book, which served as a relief to boredom and also as a forced ignorance to the penetrating eyes of the men in the restaurant on a single woman.
Ten minutes into reading the book and I changed my decision of returning the book to the library guy. I decided to add one more to the personal library of mine.
100 bucks was nothing for the lively read, let the uneducated library owner search for more adult books for me till I finish this one. With a laugh in my heart, I ordered for french fries and fresh lime soda, and wished for my husband to make his wife wait further for the dinner rendezvous.
