It was something I thought a bibliophile like me would never ever do.
Prior to yesterday, it has been almost a year since I last bought a new book, much less finished one. Thatâ€™s quite unbelievable for a chap who used to devour three full pocketbooks a week back in his younger days. I enjoyed all kinds of books — sci-fi, fantasy, classical, mystery, non-fiction, heck, even musty history tomes and medicine books. (I remember myself poring over a gigantic dictionary for hours upon hours; unfortunately it didnâ€™t turn me into the vocabulary monster I had hoped to be!) Once I saw a book lying around in the house that I hadnâ€™t read yet, Iâ€™d set to conquer it.
I finally ended my book-drought yesterday when I bought three books — two fiction, one non — from a certain bookstore in the Power Plant Mall at Rockwell. I donâ€™t know what precisely triggered me to buy three expensive books with my own money, which I had never done before. Was it the sight of so many titles I had never seen in the â€œregularâ€ bookstores, or the fact that I had a wad of hard-earned cash in my wallet ready to heed my caprice?
Whatever the reason, for the first time in almost a year, I felt that unmistakable thrill of picking out a book from the shelf, browsing it with excited fingers, letting the scent of the pages waft to your nostrils, and finally bringing it to the cashier so it is finally, irrevocably yours.
At the end of the day, I lost 1,600 pesos but gained three gems. Were these gems as truly brilliant as they appeared in the bookstore? You betâ€¦except for one.