I remember the day quite vividly when I first entered a
proper bookstore. I was around 14 or 15 years old when I was at my Grandma’s in
Heliopolis. Before she passed away just a couple of weeks ago, we used to have
regular get-togethers at her house where we had lunch with my uncle and his
family. Those were simpler times. Good times.
I had just finished eating lunch and there I was sitting
next to my mother and sister. My father and my uncle would go have their usual
after lunch cigarette along with a good dose of black coffee. My grandmother
would enter the kitchen and start scrubbing away effortlessly at the dishes and
spoons. We the kids would endlessly wait until all the grownups have went out
to the living room so we can play hide and seek. It was a big apartment yet filled
and stacked with chairs, chinaware and other stuff. Needless to say, there were
a lot of hiding spots. But I was tall enough to be spotted from a mile away. Till
the moment I published this blog, I kept thanking God that I did not go play hide and
seek with my nephew and nieces that day.
My uncle’s wife kept on going about this new bookstore that
had just opened around the corner of grandma’s street. She was talking to
my mother about how she and her daughters entered it and how they were
fascinated by it and how the design helps customers to be further attracted to
buying books. She had also mentioned that there is a huge collection of books
where all tastes could be met. Whether you like fiction or politics, science or
classic literature, you will find your preference there. On my face there was
nothing to be said. I was just focused on what she was saying as if I was
bedazzled. If anybody could see me at face value, they would not know that I was
interested in any of what was being said. I kept a good poker face. But in
mind, there were roller coasters roaring through the labyrinths of my mind. The
sound of their engines was so loud in my head that I could not help maintain my
poker face. I looked at my mother instantaneously after my uncle’s wife finished
talking her sweet sweet talk. My mother looked back. She knew what was going on
in my inquisitive head and she smiled, yet she was initially resistant. She kept
saying “Some other time” and “We have to be home at a specific hour.” She
failed in delivering her message. Miserably.
Next thing you know, we were on our way to the bookstore. Now
you ask yourselves “What was the bookstore’s name?” To which I respond “Diwan Bookstore.
“You might have your reservations regarding that particular bookstore but hear
me out till the end.
If anybody of you went to their branch in Heliopolis, they
would be fascinated by the place itself. The bookstore is a humongous villa
that is located in the heart of the neighbourhood. We entered it and I was
suddenly overcome by this beautiful scent. It was not organic. It was not
artificial, i.e not Glade or deodorants or otherwise. It was the scent of
thousands and thousands of books stacked atop the hundreds of shelves in the
bookstore. If you did go to any bookstore in any place, you would definitely
know the scent I am talking about.
Books I have never seen before in my life. Authors I would
never fathom knowing. Titles that made my heart leap out of my chest. I could
not believe that still after 6 or 7 years from that day, I would remember the
books I bought from there which were “Robinson Crusoe “by Daniel Defoe and “Around
the World in 80 Days” by Jules Verne, both of which might I add have not been
fully read to this very moment.
To me, a bookstore is not where I go to buy books. A
bookstore is where I find my muse. I go there if I am feeling down, and it
sometimes happens a lot. I often go there to ponder and just look at the racks
of books just sitting there waiting to be taken away from their families, waiting
for me to just look at them. To reach my hand to touch them and hold them in my
palms. I sometimes say to myself or my friends when we go to a bookstore “We
are JUST going to take a look around.” Those nine words rarely take place the
moment we enter the bookstore. To me, bookstores are therapeutic in so many
different ways. They ease my mind when I am angry and lift me up when I am sad
or happy.
Before anybody would hasten to assume that I am talking
specifically about Diwan bookstores, this is not the case at all. There are
other bookstores, street ones even that have clicked with me instantly. Diwan
was just the beginning of a series of maniacal money-spending frenzy on books that I
still had not read, and probably won’t in my lifetime. I kid you not when I say
that I think of books as my inheritance to my children, that is if I had any.
Let me slightly deviate from the main aim of this blog to
say that used books are, to me, a double-edged sword. On the plus side, they
are cheap. I mean DIRT cheap. You can find old books and possibly rare ones. Nearly
all bookstores have them on special racks. On the down side, they are possibly
torn and misused. But most importantly I WOULD NEVER SELL MY BOOKS TO ANYONE.
REPEAT, I WOULD NEVER SELL MY BOOKS TO ANYONE. Those who sell their books are
not fully sane or thinking properly. But Alas, cheap books for me. Thank you O
YE KIND PEOPLE WHO SELL THEIR BOOKS.
I am still young to achieve something big in my life. Up till
now, I am proud to say that my biggest achievement is that I can read and I have
enough money to pamper myself with loads of books. I thank God, my father, my
mother and my uncle for instilling this insane affection towards this
mesmerizing entity.
I had a lot of arguments with my sister, who is five years
younger than me, about the power of books and reading in general. I failed the
first time. I did so as well the second time. Third time. Fourth time. A couple
of months ago, she opened her first book and started reading it. Granted, she
still is reading it and she still has a long way to go to read other books. What
I want to say is that, to start reading a book is daunting at first and
sometimes even repulsive to some. But believe me, if you give yourselves the
chance to buy a book in your area of interest, however minute or complex it is,
however small or big, however cheap or expensive, I promise you, the best
feeling you will have is when your fingers turn the page before the last one
and you start reading the final words of that book. By the time you finish it,
you would have earned a new lifetime friend. An honest one.
Now go grab a book and start reading it!
