Of books and fairs

My annual pilgrimage to the local fair sparked more joy this time than on previous visits. 

The first day off of work, keeping up with tradition, my dad and I (and two others of the family) made our maiden visit this year. But the usual excitement of simply walking through the entire fairground was tempered by an unusual detachment from the sparkly, shiny stalls. I wasn't even tempted by the food stalls, or the rides. (I usually head straight for the swirly chair ride that's a staple at the fairs. I only had mouri logenze on my mind. 

After about an hour or 45 minutes of loitering while my family had jalebis, gulab jamuns, and other things, I finally settled for a substitute stall selling the same things as the one I usually frequent for mouri logenze. Mouri logenze, papad and pickles at 'Midnapore something something' instead of "Jain Shilpa Mandir'.

At first, I'm overjoyed with mouri logenze tubes as long as my forearm being sold for Rs 20. "Hold up!" I think to myself. "These sell for Rs 30 elsewhere. JACKPOT!" 

I'm easy to please. So I buy 5 right off the bat. My brother is off to the side browsing pickles and stuff. So I turn around, and who should I see but the new love of my life.

'Books sold at Rs 150-Rs 200 per kilo'. 

I'm ensnared. Mesmerised. The rest of the world ceases to exist. I go in and browse. 

Next thing I know, half an hour has passed and I'm carrying five random books I picked off the shelves because I liked the titles.

This 'books by the kilo' thing is an absolute steal, in my opinion. I mean, the books are second-hand...pre-loved, as my friend says. But none of my pet peeves are present — no writing on the pages, no torn covers or pages, and all pages present (I checked by flipping through randomly. I'm hoping all pages are present). I paid Rs 220 for the lot, and even forewent snacking at the fair because I was so giddily in love. 

But bookshops are like chips. You simply can't visit once.

So I immediately informed my partner in crime, and we revisited a couple of days later. This time, I bought 12 books. TWELVE hefty books, till I remembered I'd have to carry them all the way home. So I had to stop. The shop's weighing machine (the entire point of their USP) was malfunctioning. Before we lost hope, the shopkeeper said they'd apply guesswork. They calculated that four books make a kilo on an average, and they'd also apply a discount.

It was as if I had found Ali Baba's stash! The very nice people took Rs 380 for my pile. I also found out their actual store is about 10 minutes from my workplace. I see very many visits in the near future.

My to-be-read pile has now grown to 22. I tried to promise myself that I wouldn't buy any book at the Kolkata International Book Fair that's scheduled to start on January 31. But I managed to negotiate with myself and agree on buying ONE book, at the most. Hopefully, for the sake of my bank account, this will not be like a new year's resolution — meant to be broken.