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| Sunday, 28 September 2003 |
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By the B Worm
Wow! There certainly seemed to be a population explosion of these worms up at the Big B, two weeks ago (from the 15-21 September) at the Colombo International Book Fair (CIBF). Practically, almost the whole of Colombo seemed to have turned (Hello Machan, you here too? I met Bamba at the *** stall) Well, decidedly, with all B shops, under one roof, discounts and certain other benefits offered, how could a B Worm like me resist, the temptation, to go scrounge shelves, browse through a few pages, read whole ladybird stories and buy a couple of unladybirdy stuff.
Walking all the way to one side, and then to the other, and finally seeing a filled up car park, and a trickle of people, descending down a hidden side stairway, my fears are somewhat banished. Once there, down in the car park, I am even more re-assured by the presence of two CIBF Buses with a board nearby stating their purpose. Shuttle Service. Being handed an "Entrance Free" ticket, and a leaflet of a "Must to get" new book with an elephant at the background, I enter the square which is thronged with people. Little toddlers, handbagged mothers, walking sticked grandmothers, "Anay Putha" fathers, lovey dovey lovers, giggling gals, winking guys, you name it all.
Thus ignoring all the looks and smells of an unhealthy junk feast, I make my way inside to a healthy appetizing mind feast. Austen, G. Eliot, Dickens, Shake and Co all coated in Penguin, Puffin and Wordsworth Covers, jumbled up with a mixture of Sheldon, Archer, Grisham, Dhal, Tolkien, Blume, Blyton etc, together with English and Sinhala "Surapappa's" and "nitnit's" (ha). Mr. Potter however, unmistakeably dominated most of the stalls with his stones of eternal life, secret chambers, innocent prisoners, goblets and phoenixes. Not confining themselves to the western shores, being culturally diverse, Roy, Shoba, Seth and other Indian Scribes, as well as our own Mullers (this in person as well), Odantjes etc gleamed away from prominent spots. Art books, mouth watering cookery books, knowledgable encyclopedias, books on "dream house" architecture, gardening, wild life, landscapes and countries, too stalked by corner shelves, with "Don't forget me" looks. Single rule, double rule, square rule, blank 80, 160, 200, 400 paged exercise books, together with CR, Drawing, note books and note pads, showed off their shiny Mickey, Minney, Donald, Bambi and Snow White surfaces from one or two stalls. The stalls themselves are like strands of a gigantic spider's web, smitten with hundreds of flies, Us Undoubtable Valuable Customers. Sinhala, Tamil and English, they all blare out their names, display their some higgledy piggledy, other methodical set of books, drawing in numerous numbers of customers. Faces peering, engrossed, interested, disinterested, leafing through, skimming over, glancing at a cover, put under arm, returned to where it was, returned to not where it was; in the insides of the stalls the goods are being heavily inspected. At the entrances, Buyers are flocking in, Boughters making their way out with heavy bags, cashier cash boxes clinking in and out, receipts doled out galore. Getting to the books however requires tremendous skill and stealth. One has to first get oneself pushed along with the crowd, to whatever stall that comes one's way. If satisfied enter. If not step back aboard the human moving train. One must also remember where the wanted stall is located, for fear of loosing sense of direction entirely, in the mini maze of look a like stalls. Once successfully steered into particular stall, a new problem is encountered, in the form of the rather narrow alleys between one book rack and another. The alleys being two way roads, people coming from opposite directions, are constantly bumped along on to the other, and to the odd pillar or two immovably engrossed in a book, blocking the way. Well, after all this, in the end of the day, back bending, legs pinched, hands aching with siri siri bags full of Dexter, a single woman's diary, Elizabeth the I and many tales of a fourth grade nothing, I trundle off for a good read and a bit of rest. A Happy Book Sunday to you all. PS-There was an all day kiddies art competition, and from the few youngsters with pen and paper out, scribing away, an essay competition as well. A read a book and win kiddies thing too, as held above in a bamboo hut. Reading, writing and art, these youngsters sure seemed to have schooled it out. |
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| Produced by Lake House |
Morning Everyone! Guess most of you guys have been burying ye selves
deep inside lengthy novels, scandalous mags, unscandalous mags, digesting
readers, times and week news, short stories, longer stories, fairy
stories, etc. Bookworms, studyworms and even little worms breeding around
town in numbers.
Thinking, the cool climes of the evening would be the best time for
Book Shopping (not a great idea in the end as apparently nearly everyone
else felt the same, resulting in a "Jana Gahanaya Pirunu"
situation) cash hidden, inside, the inside handbag zip, I get myself
driven through the princely drive way, decked up with red, yellow and blue
flags, waving words of greeting one couldn't read cause of the constant
flapping to the wind. Stepping into the ascending steps of the towering
monument before me, I was faced with a "Where is everyone?",
"Perhaps it's on another day?" calamity. No sign of a stall, a
sign board, or even an arrow pointing the way.
Hot hot patties and crispy Chinese rolls with a "Come Eat Me"
look, mockingly bulge out emitting a wafting, freshly baked pastry smell.
Mmmmm... A CocaCola bottled portable CocaCola shed, is dishing out those
white, orange and maroony-black fuzzy drinks. Shhhrrruush! And up near the
entrance, the air is smelling of warm pop corn. Yes, I see it. Pop corn
dancing a polka inside a pop corn machine, being dished out in homely
brown paper bags. Oooh Wake Up, I'm here to enrich my mind, not stomach.
