[A READER’S LIFE] The Bookshop at the end of the street //my first time reading used books//

At first glance, I couldn’t IMAGINE any way this little shop housed thousands upon thousands of books. From the floor up to the ceiling, from left to right and all around me – paper bound stories were all the eye could see. 

It was heaven. I could feel the excitement of all those characters – bursting with stories to tell. Bursting with love. Or hate. Either way, they seemed to loathe being wrapped inside those covers. They wanted to come out and gatecrash my mind, make me fall in love with them and then just…leave. How could anyone be so mean? I whimpered at the thought.

“RAIN! It’s getting late. I gotta reach the class before SHE DOES. Or it’s another detention for me!” Sid’s voice brought me back to reality.

I looked at him with a knowing smile and he understood. Trouble ahead.

“You…aren’t going are you?”

In response, I just left his hand and went running inside this majestic shop – my new love. Of course he had to stay now. He sat on a nearby chair – a gesture of his resignation – letting me browse as many books as I wanted. ❤

That was how I found out about that magical place. I knew right there that this was going to be my favorite hangout – for a long, LONG time.

The owner was a wrinkly old man – exactly like the movies. He could have been Gandalf in disguise, I AM TELLING YOU. I half expected him to ask me if I wanted to accompany him on an adventure! 

Anyway, 4 hours later, we finally left the place with our hands full of books, my pocket feeling a bit too light, and me? Well, I felt a weird sense of accomplishment! 🤣

When mumma saw me entering with more books than I could count on both hands, she put a book- buying ban on me which meant I was to walk by the street with dreams in my eyes but no courage to act on them. For a whole month! Funny how the very person who encouraged me to love books would now resort to such practices to keep me away from them. *sulks in the corner* 😦

AH! MY LITTLE HEART! It broke. And it stayed broken for a month. Somehow, the fact that I was not allowed to buy any new books was keeping me from enjoying the ones I had already bought. Yeah, I am bit obsessive that way.

The memories of my visits to that bookshop are as vivid to me as the present moment. Some of my favorite reads came from there. I always came back with a gem or two hidden away in the dusty corners of that little bookshop.

I wonder now if my reading habits would’ve been as refined as they are today if it wasn’t for that bookstore because although I was already a classics lover, finding used and yellowed copies – with notes and lists and personal experiences written on them made it all so much more fun somehow.

That place can also be blamed, partly at least, for my aversion toward hyped books or new releases in general. I became so enchanted with all those books already containing memories of having been read before that brand new copies sort of paled in comparison, you know!

That bookstore was and will always remain the first “bookstore” love of my life. Even a Penguin one doesn’t inspire the thrill I used to feel as soon as I set foot in – the bookshop at the end of the street.