Reading and collecting books is not just a hobby but an obsession. For all those who have found their lost souls in books, reading has a strong addiction. Being a bibliophile myself, I spend all the time and money I can on books. To me that’s the most productive use of such valuable resources, certainly more productive than food and clothing. Whenever I am shopping with friends or family, they avoid being near a bookstore because I can’t resist one.
I am also very possessive about my own collection of books. I lend them only to serious readers; even then the empty space of the borrowed book on the shelf keeps bothering me. I realize that knowledge must be shared but being possessive about my books is a selfish need. Great writer Paulo Coelho keeps giving away his books and never keeps more than three hundred in his private collection. That tells me he has a big heart. A friend of mine, who has great sense of humor, called me a book hoarder and a snake sitting on top of knowledge. I simple responded that I can always lend my books to serious readers but what I can’t stand is people using my books for making their grocery lists, trying a hand at sketching and drying their oily pakoray.
One fine day during Lahore Literary Festival 2015, I saw something strange. Two young women walked in through the gate of Alhamra Arts and Cultural complex. One of them was pushing a pram inside which a beautiful baby boy was sleeping. In the bottom pocket of the pram, there were boxes full of homemade marshmallows and cookies. The other lady was holding a basket full of old books and with a prominent sign "Adopt a Book". She was giving away her old books for adoption. She was instantly surrounded by a small group and people started adopting her books. She wrote a line on every book taken. In return, the person who adopted the book got a cookie or a marshmallow. You can imagine my wonder and curiosity. How can someone give away their books, even if they’ve read them? My relationship with a book doesn’t end at the last page. It takes a place at my shelf and whenever I feel like, I keep staring at my books recalling all those wonderful lives I have lived while reading them. I approached them and adopted a book. It was “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin” by Louis de Bernieres. “Don’t be sad when this ends ~ Nuzhat” she wrote on the title page and gave it to me.
“How is it?” I asked.
“It’s good”. She smiled.
I saw her again the next day. She was sitting beside the statue of Allama Iqbal and this time there were no books, no cookies and no marshmallows. We said hello to each other and I asked “no books today"?
She smiled and said "No! I felt like I’m missing the books I gave away yesterday".
When I think of it now, I just marvel at her beautiful idea. Thank you, for the book and of course the cookie.