Skip to main content

Letters in gold and all that is old...

If you have been reading my blog for a while now, then I believe you are aware of my obsession with books. And with the territory of my love for reading comes my immediate lust for bookstores. Especially old ones.

Each bookstore is like a treasure island, hiding deep secrets in the highest shelves and enticing me with beautiful leather bound spines. The older the place, higher the shelves and deeper the secrets. 

I have been on the hunt for antique bookstores for a while now. On prowl, I often visit quaint streets and calm lanes, away from the crowd. Breaking all my assumptions, the recent one I discovered, is in the heart of London and ever so exquisite. Any street in Leicester Square is full of people in the evenings. Drinks, food and good times. Come one, come all, Leicester square has something for everyone. The chatter and vehicles buzzing past me drown every sense one could feel, and still I walked steadfastly on my trail. My wonderful smartphone was thirsty and unable to help. The snapshot of the map lived in my head. Mouth watering sweet smell from cafes alongside called out to my never ending hunger, but the envisaged smell of old pages was far more enticing.

A crossing, a left turn, and lo behold! Wedged between cafes and diners, surrounded by people looking everywhere but there, a small door, almost invisible to the everyday passer by. The insides were lined with books. Books on walls, all the way up to the ceiling. Books spread across the floor, that you need to tiptoe your way in. Every nook and corner was filled with books and the smell of yellowing pages. Amidst the smell of pages and ink, if you were to take a tiny whiff, you could smell the dust. Like magical fairy dust. The one which helps you locate missing items. Follow the sillage and you discover the bookkeeper's untold stories. You may have to burrow deep into the basement or clamber into cave like attics, but that often leads to the best discoveries.


“You can't eat books, sweetheart.” 

Oh! I would that I could. Books for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now that diet would keep me happy, content and quite healthy. Before I waltzed into 2017, I discovered a treasure island in the heart of London city and I could have asked for nothing more before 2016 came to an end. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

‘Nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.’

I'm in love with Sherlock Holmes. Well I always was. He is the witty, observant, strictly logical, overtly rational and the exceptionally eccentric detective, everyone is bound to fall in love with. The new series (relatively new as compared to the books of 19th century), has put me in the re-reading mode, in an attempt to understand the mind of one of the most famous fictitious detective woven into the literary world. My love for detective stories obviously started with the ever famous "Famous Five"s and "Secret Seven"s. As i grew up, i transitioned to "Nancy Drew", and even dreamed of being a successful detective one day. Truth be told, which of us hasn't thought of such wonderfully exotic careers while we were growing up, right? All the books on detective stories lead me to believe, this was the best profession out there beyond the school years. Alas, what a child dreams are innocent and often forgotten as soon as a better prospect comes al...

I grew up with Tweety...

"I grew up with Tweety. And now there is Twitter.  Everything is a tweet, whether it be a yellow bird or blue" As of now, today, we all have opinions about everything. As we stand and watch the world go by, we point our little fingers at 'everything in our view', say a word or two with intense passion and then on approach of another 'thing in view' forget our previous temperament and move on to passionately support the next big thing. I am currently sitting in my office and reading various articles and forming my opinions as I read. Throughout the day, I appreciate certain things and condemn most that come along. How conveniently does one move from one subject to another is probably accredited to our unlimited access to information and the ability to publicly broadcast our emotions without processing it. This is not an article denouncing the entire system of sharing, broadcasting or in today's world 'tweeting' our thoughts. We as t...

Golden daffodils and all that matters...

Ok so this isn't a story, just thoughts stitched together... Thoughts that come while i walk to my morning train everyday. They needed to see light and this blog is after all about thoughts that "pop"... So... I love talking and people who know me would agree that I love it. I enjoy telling stories and when i cannot write everything down, I let my mouth take over my writing abilities and typing skills.  But what i enjoy most is "pondering". Not necessarily being pensive... but just questioning things around us. Like who decided the name of the days. I mean what does "Monday" even mean? (by the way 'Monday' is derived from "Moon Day" of the Old English) Or "February"? I cant even say "February" without tripping on my tongue. Why do we even have names for days or months... why not just a number. Well i'm sure someone will trace history and get me the answers, but its not the answers i look for.  What I...