My kind and other animals

Madeeha Syed continues her musings about her no-longer-secret addiction

Like most addicts, we have learnt to recognise our kind. In some cases it’s painfully apparent: the other person will often talk about so-and-so book that they read or they will appear to be slightly removed from the ‘crowd’, as if not belonging to it entirely. There are some bookaholics, however, who don’t reveal their secret so easily. They look like everyone else, they talk like everyone else,
and they don’t necessarily ‘talk’ about books that they have read or want to read. It’s only when they innocently reveal in passing their love for collecting books that they are ever found out.

Talking of types of bookaholics, I have to mention my bookstore observations. I spend a at least two hours a week in a bookstore; sitting in one of their sofas pouring over books or simply taking a break and sorting my thoughts out while devouring the titles on the bookstores, I’ve noticed almost all kinds of people come into bookstores to buy books. Most of them seem to belong to the 45 and above age bracket — the self actualised individuals (or close to it). Sadly enough, I don’t see many people my age (the early 20’s age bracket) spend time in bookstores. They are almost always found hanging out cafés and/or at clothing outlets.

Once while searching for a book to buy for my mother, I asked a woman standing beside me at the book store for a recommendation. She looked like what most moms look like; everything about her spelled ‘comfort’ from her clothes to her shoes. She asked what my mother did and I replied that she was a ‘home maker’. Based on that information she thought that I was better off buying mum a ‘thriller novel’ — the likes of Danielle Steel. In response to the inquiring look I gave her, she said that women like her who took care of ‘everything’ didn’t have time or the energy to devote their already stressed minds to ‘serious’ books. A thriller would engage and provide a welcome escape from an otherwise stressful, mundane line. While I found her advice interesting, I was surprised to discover that she was an avid book reader.

On another occasion, while waiting for our respective rides, the marketing head of a successful international clothing line confessed to me that books depressed him. He explained that his working schedule left him with virtually no time to read and going into or even near a book store was a painful reminder of how, even if he bought them, he couldn’t read the books he’d like. His bookaholic side didn’t surprise me — he fit the self-actualised bookaholic profile. His confession led me to think what if at some point in my life I am also too busy? Too busy for books?! That idea is the closest to blasphemy I have dared to venture.

There aren’t many libraries in Karachi to begin with and virtually no public libraries where people can go to. What we do have is a library somewhere in Defense Housing Society which offers free admission to all senior citizens. Surprised? It’s true. Several years ago, while studying for an exam, I looked up to see a charming couple, both easily 75 or above, going over some old books. They were obviously retired but instead of spending their time nodding off to sleep in a rocking chair, they had decided to read. What I found especially heartwarming was the way the gentleman would often take the hand of the lady and help her go from one bookcase to the other. Not only that, they even consulted each other on their choice of books and eventually settled down together in a comfortable corner to read. That is exactly how I want to spend my retirement. When I’m not travelling, that is.

I belong to the school of thought that considers buying an original book, no matter how expensive, the right way to read and collect. One of my closest friends, who is also a bookaholic, prefers to buy pirated editions only. And if she can, she’ll download e-books instead! She explained once that she was more concerned with the overall content of the book instead of how it was ‘packaged’ and that original copies were too expensive. I, on the other hand, would starve in order to save money rather than buy a pirated edition. What’s more is that this friend (gasp) underlines sentences that she finds interesting in the books. All of the above is a major ‘No no’ in the sacred unspoken bookaholic creed. The said friend belongs to a breed I haven’t come across much but her variety of bookaholics are definitely intriguing.

What is it about books that enthralls us so? Perhaps it has to do with our innate love for a good story — whether in novel form or as a biography — and the desire to have it repeated to us. Or maybe we hold precious those elements that manage to enchant us and make us drift momentarily into another world. Interacting with those who carry this love a step further has always been interesting. It sheds light on our uniqueness and diversity; yet is a reminder that whatever shape or size we come in, we love books.

First Published:
Books and Authors
July 29, 2007