Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Starring my BOOK-STAND

Something strange is happening to me these days. A few months back, I was moaning about the lack of new books to read. And now that I have around 15 new works that are simply bawling for some attention from me ( and if you thought using the word bawling was an exaggeration, I swear it's not, because these books have simply jumped from my already stuffed book-shelf and have now invaded my cupboard. So on the last shelf where you ought to see some pretty clothes, you'll see Steve Jobs, Bill Bryson, Vinod Mehta and Anita Nair fighting for some breathing space :-) ). Now where was I? Yes, so like I was saying I'm honestly surprised at myself. I now have enough books to keep me company for the next 6 months but I don't feel like touching them. Instead, my eyes keep wandering to my book stand which is certain to fall down on me someday, if I add any more books there.

If there's one thing in my bedroom I'm supremely proud of, it's my book-stand. First of all, it was made from scratch at a time when carpenters actually used good quality wood to make furniture. Furniture from those bygone years really lasts and I find that furniture bought from retail stores these days just doesn't. This book-stand used to be placed in my grandfather's house in Mulund, Mumbai. Back then, my grandpa would proudly show off his collection of Osho books ( Lord knows why), his spanking new Encyclopedia Britannica collection and a few other works of fiction like the Arthur Conan Doyle collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. Although I never got around to reading Osho, I like to think that my off-beat taste in the written word comes from my grandfather. While my dad's dad liked such stuff, my mom's dad on the other hand preferred to stick to his Perry Mason mysteries and other thrillers.

The idea of my own book-stand proudly showing off my taste in books didn't occur to me until I went to a dear friend's house and spotted her small collection of books on a stand under the staircase. That's when it hit me- why not have my own collection of books, something that I can pass on someday to the next generation and something I can go back to now and then. I sometimes think that a good book is better than a husband- it's always there when you need it, no unnecessary talking and a good 9/10 chance of being really interesting. Sadly, I don't recall which is the first book I bought. But when I take a look at my book-stand, each book has its own special moment in time. There are books bought after long hours of browsing at Odyssey when I was doing my MBA in Hyderabad, there are books bought in Mumbai from Crossword, books bought off the street, quite a few bought online. Books I swore I would buy when I had more cash, a few books that I thought would be interesting but turned out to be so boring, books picked up from 50% off sales ( How I love a book sale), books that were purchased because they just had to be there, plenty of historical biographies and of course, many classics.


 What you won't find in my book-stand are books on spirituality and management. Sometimes, I think that I was the only MBA student back then in ICFAI who diligently stayed away from any book with the words ' Time Management,' Success', ' Habits', ' Winner', 'Succeed', 'Goals' and ' Fulfill' in its title. I just hated such books and still do. Nothing in the world can make me buy an Ed Bono book or works written by other writers in his league. Spiritual books are another waste of time according to me, because spirituality is something to discover within yourself- why should you have to listen to somebody else's lecture about it? But then again, that's just me!

Anyways... One look at my cherished books and my eyes fell on ' Shantaram'. I still remember buying this book one late evening in Mumbai, when my best friend and I were shopping at Shopper's Stop. Back then, this book cost 500/- and I had read so much about it. The cost of the book pinched of course, but I devoured it within days. And I remember enjoying that book quite a bit. Reading it all over again for the second time now, makes me realize how many words of wisdom are actually tucked away in every page. And I feel the same reverence for the writer as I did when I read the book for the first time. To be able to store all those memories safely in one's head and then while putting them down on paper years later, to be able to recollect those emotions and take the reader on a journey is nothing short of commendable to me.

I've started writing down atleast two lines of where I had bought my books, from last week. It's hard- I've forgotten many details as it is in the space of a few years, but I like to think that someday when my son picks up books from my sacred collection, that he will smile as he reads those few lines written in my handwriting. And that's what keeps me going :-)


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