Memories of a Bibliophile
My daughter wanted to get all the 10K books off their shelves and dust and clean them before putting them back. No easy task that, for sure. Yet, I had been pining to do just that for way too long. So we set about it methodically.
The first books to come off were the ones more easily accessible, as these were in the front rows. We categorised them into fiction, drama, journals, poetry and philosophy as well as academic. All the literary criticism went into the latter. As for the others, the categories are quite self-explanatory.
As my daughter took down all these venerable tomes, I looked at her with some amusement and plenty of concern. When would the day come when she would learn the heavy merit contained and hidden between these covers? Would she ever develop that appreciation?
She's into drama and other performing arts, so the prospect does not seem too far-fetched. She's also into it very seriously and enjoys involving herself there. But reading is an antiquated ball game, these days. Hence my concern.
As the classics and highly cherished volumes from my university days came down for the dusting, I had one single urgent concern. What could I do to make sure all of these were easily accessible to me at all times?
There was little choice, actually. Many of my beloved books would inevitably have to be relegated to the back rows. So those would not be even visible. Only the books in the front row would be visible. How does one get over that?
T.S. Eliot, Nabokov, Hemingway, Laurence Sterne, Swift, C.P. Snow, Milan Kundera, Franz Kafka, Dostoyevsky, the occasional Sidney Sheldon, Milton, Wordsworth, Blake, Miller, Tom Stoppard, Gorky, Dickens, the Metaphysical Poets, Tendulkar, Karandikar, Kusumagraj, Shelke … all of them came out into the open.
Despite the vagaries of life, I've managed to cling on to the memories of days past. It was like a reunion like no other. I was childishly happy to meet these friends from my prime!
My daughter and I started putting them back with some reluctance. She wanted to get done with it. I wanted her to enjoy each cover and blurb. I wanted her to take a closer look. She was curious about some and asked me questions. I wanted to take days explaining to her things I couldn't really talk about later. She wanted to get on with her life and living.
Ah well, she'll come round to delightful discoveries very soon - anytime now - I guess.
I hope that there will be a time in my life when I will have the means to get them all together and have a blast.
Amen to that.
The first books to come off were the ones more easily accessible, as these were in the front rows. We categorised them into fiction, drama, journals, poetry and philosophy as well as academic. All the literary criticism went into the latter. As for the others, the categories are quite self-explanatory.
As my daughter took down all these venerable tomes, I looked at her with some amusement and plenty of concern. When would the day come when she would learn the heavy merit contained and hidden between these covers? Would she ever develop that appreciation?
She's into drama and other performing arts, so the prospect does not seem too far-fetched. She's also into it very seriously and enjoys involving herself there. But reading is an antiquated ball game, these days. Hence my concern.
As the classics and highly cherished volumes from my university days came down for the dusting, I had one single urgent concern. What could I do to make sure all of these were easily accessible to me at all times?
There was little choice, actually. Many of my beloved books would inevitably have to be relegated to the back rows. So those would not be even visible. Only the books in the front row would be visible. How does one get over that?
T.S. Eliot, Nabokov, Hemingway, Laurence Sterne, Swift, C.P. Snow, Milan Kundera, Franz Kafka, Dostoyevsky, the occasional Sidney Sheldon, Milton, Wordsworth, Blake, Miller, Tom Stoppard, Gorky, Dickens, the Metaphysical Poets, Tendulkar, Karandikar, Kusumagraj, Shelke … all of them came out into the open.
Despite the vagaries of life, I've managed to cling on to the memories of days past. It was like a reunion like no other. I was childishly happy to meet these friends from my prime!
My daughter and I started putting them back with some reluctance. She wanted to get done with it. I wanted her to enjoy each cover and blurb. I wanted her to take a closer look. She was curious about some and asked me questions. I wanted to take days explaining to her things I couldn't really talk about later. She wanted to get on with her life and living.
Ah well, she'll come round to delightful discoveries very soon - anytime now - I guess.
I hope that there will be a time in my life when I will have the means to get them all together and have a blast.
Amen to that.
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| Books @ Khandekars' |
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