As I waited impatiently in line at the cash counter of a bookstore, clutching half a dozen books and an equal number of magazines, I noticed this little girl ahead of me, she was holding this story book, taking a peek ever so often and then closing it with a content sigh. It was almost as if she couldn't wait to reach home and start reading the book. She barely reached the top of the counter as she paid the cashier and then ran over to her waiting mother, clearly wanting to head home in a hurry.
How many times do we see such an image and smile?
As the cashier prepared my bill, I looked again at these wonderful books I was purchasing and soon began realising that the thrill that little girl had was strangely missing in me. I knew it was missing because I've had it before as a little boy or even when I was a gawky teenager. I remember those good old days of bargaining with some roadside seller of old books over a copy of a Hardy Boy's adventure or a Louis L'Amour western or a fresh adventure of Richmal Crompton's William. Usually, after a successful bargain (often involving all the money I owned as of that moment), I would race back home and settle in my nook, munch on something and start reading the book.
As a kid, I could never own comic books like Tintin or Asterix because they were frightfully expensive. So I would get one those from a local lending library and read it a few dozen times before it was time to return it. Now that have entire collections of these books, often brand new, I hardly ever re-read books anymore, almost forgetting that some books grow on you the more you read.
Come to think of it, isn't this true for most things we do as grown ups? I wonder why we were in such a tearing hurry to be adults.
How many times do we see such an image and smile?
As the cashier prepared my bill, I looked again at these wonderful books I was purchasing and soon began realising that the thrill that little girl had was strangely missing in me. I knew it was missing because I've had it before as a little boy or even when I was a gawky teenager. I remember those good old days of bargaining with some roadside seller of old books over a copy of a Hardy Boy's adventure or a Louis L'Amour western or a fresh adventure of Richmal Crompton's William. Usually, after a successful bargain (often involving all the money I owned as of that moment), I would race back home and settle in my nook, munch on something and start reading the book.
As a kid, I could never own comic books like Tintin or Asterix because they were frightfully expensive. So I would get one those from a local lending library and read it a few dozen times before it was time to return it. Now that have entire collections of these books, often brand new, I hardly ever re-read books anymore, almost forgetting that some books grow on you the more you read.
Come to think of it, isn't this true for most things we do as grown ups? I wonder why we were in such a tearing hurry to be adults.
8 comments:
Yes, why, why, oh why?
This really struck a chord with me.... when I was a girl, I had the whole set of Nancy Drew mysteries which I would reread constantly along with about 10 other books.... they never got old, but I cannot for the life of me think of the last book I wanted to read again!
yep! nothing much comes out of being an adult anyway. Maybe the criminal twist is that when u cant afford them books on your own, you naturally treasure and hoard the ones you have but now when u can afford practically any book the mind wants.. one tends to disregard a lot..
Youth is wasted on the young?
u r right...
i alwayz think had i known wat the adult world held for me, i wud've never bin in that hurry to grow up ...but then itz too late now !***sigh***
Zaa, I envy you :), I can hardly finish one book a week these days.
Cheesey, I've never read Nancy drew but I used to have an older cousin who did. After finishing, she would gather us kids around and tell us the story (possibly adding her own twists and turns) and we would sit in open-mouthed awe.
jay, maybe, just maybe in another 20 years, we would think that we had it all now :)
mukta, totally! Your comment reminded me about my scrawny looking nephew of mine. One of these days I swear I'm going to force him into getting a decent haircut and a shave.
Swathi, we live, we learn (and we crib) :)
Square, thanks! I'm glad you don't travel to other blogs so often. If you did visit the blogs I've blogrolled, you'd change your mind in a jiffy :)
I can see that whole incident perfectly clearly ... what lovely writing!
Everything is exciting when you are young, and the potential for deriving maximum pleasure out of any tiny trivial thing is at its peak then. Now, you've seen it all, and you are jaded and dissipated. Nothing excites you. Time has desensitized you. You, are now A GrownUp.
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