My first love is Books. As far back as I can remember of my life, I find books as an integral part of it. School Books, story books of library and all kinds of books. Lately, downloaded books from internet have caught my fancy. They were and are truly my companion. People smoke or drink or do other things when unhappy, I read books. It works like tranquilizer for my mind. I can become pretty severely restless sometimes, as if something is burning inside to come out. By instinct, I know if I allow that substance, whatever it is, to come out, it will only create destruction. Destruction of relations, destruction of sentiments, destruction of friendship, destruction of love and admiration. Many things I notice of people, but do not care to consider or choose to ignore in normal circumstances. It makes my life easy. They all come out in very bad shape, while I am restless. People near and dear to me... I selfishly love them. It is my life's dilemma that I love some people from core of my heart and on the other side, I never knew I was capable of such hatred towards them. Sometimes love overrules everything, and sometimes hatred wins. In between, is sandwiched the poor me! If you are given a choice of choosing, between your right and left eyes, which one you will choose? They both are equally precious to you. So neither I can stop loving them, nor I can forgive them completely. Its as if, I am destined to burn in my own created hell for eternity. I drank the blue poison by choice with a fake laugh in my face.
What to say, with all this in my mind, I feel, if anything can cure me, or, if anything is normal in my life, then its my books. They instill some peace of mind. My books are me. When we became one, I do not know and cannot describe. Whatever I do, wherever I go, books seem a safe option to me. You have a friendly chat with someone in a journey, the next thing you know he thinks you are interested in him. By God, save me from this foolishness. So, its my rule, not to talk much in journeys and as such, I do not know what to talk with complete strangers. Talking with known people seems so cubersome sometimes. Who cares about the unknown mass. Grab a book, take a corner window seat, look the passing scenery and when bored read the book. Seems enough safe to me.
I am pretty monotonic about my choices. I like shopping from a particular book shop in Howrah Station. In corner of the new complex of Howrah station, a tiny book shop is my choice. I do not know what I see there, but feel like buying a book, everytime I pass it. May be, bought a couple of books from there, during my numerous journeys to hither and thither. This time it was a jolt to me. I had some time at hand and I was unable to pinpoint an interesting book for my journey. So, was browsing the books one after another. Suddenly, the bookkeeper started yelling. about some thing... rouge public... do not want to buy… just time pass etc. etc. Next thing I knew, the other book-keeper prevented me from taking books, with a very bad smile in his face. I do not know what to say to them. Then, I came to understand, it was me they were gesturing and hissing from the last 10 minutes.
What mad them think that, I will not buy any book and just spending my time there... I do not know. But, it seemed very very insulting. A person, for whom books are everything, her life, her ambitions and her identity, how come she will do time-pass with her major interest of life? It was a speechless moment for me. I was not angry at all, I just became blank. I stared at both of them for a couple of seconds... it was early morning and I do believe in good start of a day... hence left the stall silently. How did they came to that conclusion that I am a time-pass public, I do not know. I completed that very journey without any book and came home. Forgot the matter completely. Some days later while cleaning a book-shelf, I found that very stack of books I bought from that book-store and the time-pass story came to mind. I do not know how to forget this insulting incident and it still stings in heart for being called time-pass public. God forbid, anything happen to that book shop, but that day it lose an avid book shopper! May be, I will visit that stall and book-keepers just once more and return the books I bought from them to purge the bad memory. As long as the books are with me, the incident is gonna stay in memory!!!
