Recently I lent a book to a friend who is not so much into reading
and books like the bibliophile in me, but nevertheless was interested by the
theme of that little piece of non-fiction that shone like a pearl in my hands,
credits it’s flawlessly designed cover and the immaculate white color which
covered most part of it.
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| DON'T TRY THIS WITH MY BOOKS |
So, feeling like I am on a mission to spread knowledge and
provide everyone with the book that suits them, while hoping that they shall also
one day appreciate the habit of reading, the power of literature et al. Alas! this
idealistic vision of mine turned out to be too utopian to be true, and refuted all
my noble anticipations in the cruelest way possible.
Okay, so I had heard this enough number of times to get it
etched into my memory that borrowed books are seldom returned. But considering
the stickler that I am when it comes to my prized possessions, I was sure that
this won't be the case, and that I shall be getting my book back as soon as my
friend is done with the task at hand
So I was confident that what is mine shall come back to me,
and I shall personally and keenly see to it that it does!
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| UNDERSTAND? |
However, what I was not prepared for was this: receiving the
book back after dispatching incessant reminders, occasionally hinting that I crave
to see my baby back, commenting how borrowing is not a very noble deed (in an
entirely different context, of course), and making a hell lot of excuses to
make the urgency to have the book back sound genuine. No that’s not it:
receiving it in a torn condition, so tainted and coal-resembling that I had to
actually remember what its cover page looked like before this misfortune befell
me. *sigh*
And you know that thin layer of plastic which shields a book from
potent dangers like the dirty hands, uncontrolled pens of careless people? That
was gone too.
And I am not exaggerating (except that comparison to coal).
Book lovers out there, you know that feeling, right? It elicits a reaction similar to this
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followed by sobbing...
Now I have decided, that no matter how weird or annoying I may sound, I
am always going to launch into this didactic instruction list prior to lending
a book to a person who is not as fervent a bibliophile as me!
1) Books are for reading, you may at the most
devour them and chew them and digest them, (in case you took Francis bacon just
too literally), but they don’t have a digestive system. So kindly keep your pickles
and cheetos-soiled fingers away (gosh! You still eat them? anyways, my book doesn’t,
so mind the distance)
2) Oh, and my book doesn’t have any immune system
to make sure that it doesn’t get ill by the dust. And there are other
functional reasons as well for providing that transparent plastic foil-cover. So
if you ever feel like rolling your fingers with my book in your hand, make sure
you have a stapler/punching machine to put your mischievous little fingers
into, and end it once and for all.
3)
I guess you get real confused when its time to
bathe, because you bathe my book instead of yourselves! Don’t worry my book
wont ever emit the foul smell that you do.
4)
Gain all knowledge that you can, this is going
to be the only time I am gonna lend you my book, never again, because I won't like to mar the beauty of my library.
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| IF YOU DON'T LEARN HOW TO READ! |
Trust me, I am sure of that.
