One of my favourite urban escapades, a visit to a book shop , is slowly beginning to lose its old world charm.All I find these days are acres of acres of shelf space,filled with glossy self help books...all claiming to have the quickest formula to success (whatever that means) and iron out all possible flaws in my character,trying to make me all POSITIVE...like one end of an electrode,and celebrity authors producing more and more of the same fuzz, like a Pepsi bottling plant..and prices that makes me do a quick mental scan of my credit card outstanding.. Amidst all these, hidden from the glitz of Landmarks and the Crosswords of the world, is "The Bookworm",a modest book shop with two not so well lit rooms , on MG Road , opposite to the metro entrance.A scintillating variety of books , both new and old ones.The Kafkas and the Orwells,the Hosseini and the Amitava Ghosh,the Japanese Gardening styles and the Income tax Bible,all vying for my attention,like boys in a classroom raising their hands to a known question from the teacher. Invariably, I find here not only books that I was searching for a long time, but also books that were searching for me. The gentle guy on the counter,sometimes gives away an old copy of a children magazine for free, if I am having my kid with me. More power to places like the Bookworm...who all are fighting a hard lonely battle just for people who are in love with the printed word.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Sep 2013 16:36:57 +0000
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