Bookish

I confess - I am a people watcher.
Especially when I travel.
Airport lounges, long bus rides, noisy cafeterias and crowded malls.
And when the subjects in question, are reading books. Its even more fascinating.
Let me tell you why.
Many years ago, I took the bus in a quiet southen school town called Gainesville from Oaks Mall to Student Drive. It had been a hard first few weeks in the US and much of my time and energy was spent on observing how different and difficult everything was. Everyone was...
It was the last bus and there werent too many people on it.
Right across from where I sat ..was a young girl. In her early 20's. Like yours truly.
But the similarities ended there I thought.
She had half pink and half black hair. At least 5 piercings on her face. And colored tatooes that peeped out on any visible body part.
Was dressed in black from head to toe with smudgy black eyes that would put cleopatra to shame. Some obtrusive metal music blared from her music player and she blew bubbles from her bubble gum to pass away the time.
She seemed to have a pretty well defined idea about who she was about, what accesories were part of her identity..and she looked like she was all together and yet falling apart at the same time.
Being only 2 weeks old in the US, I had never seen anyone like her before.
And I thought to myself predicatably so - how different are we.
Both in this bus, headed to the same stop.
Me - from a far away continent - trying desperately to make sense out of the new life I had chosen for myself - where I constantly had to repeat what I said and think twice before I did.
And then I saw it.
In her hand.
Like a beacon.
A copy of Richard Bach -Illusions.
My bag suddenly became very heavy. Beacuse nestled between the peanut butter sandwich - I had made myself earlier that day and forgotten to eat and my documents file - was my own copy of Illusions. ..purchased on the street outside churchgate station..many long months ago.
It brought a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.
Perspective and Awareness - when they attack together - are lethal and spare no mental boundaries whatsoever.
I felt wistful and hopeful...that in some way .. This girl ..and I had something in common.
And it made me feel optimistic - and want to try and find something in common with all the unknown things and people around me.
And I drank from that half full glass...many many times in the years to come and still do when I encounter something new and daunting.
But this post is not about that girl or my multitudious grapples with life.
This post is about technology.
And why I love it and hate it at the same time.
Rewind back to my story and imagine that it was happening today.
I would board the bus - sit down and look at the girl.
She would be blowing bubbles, reading Bach happily on her kindle ....or her Ipad
And I would not have my revelation.
Books. Technology will undoubtedly bring books and literature to millions. At a click's notice.
But it will take away these small things - that bring me so much joy.
Like looking at the serious stiff upper lip gentelman .. reading a PG Wodehouse at the airport...
or a conservative indian aunty ..reading some raunchy mills and boons type ... or a flaky shabby teenager absorbed in shakespeare ...or many many people at the same airport lounge reading The Lost symbol ..a day after its release...
Its such a small thing... I know ...
But somethings are better the old fashioned way.
Like wine in glass bottles with corkscrews.
And Books in yellowing sleeves with dog eared pages that you inscribe and give to your loved ones and hold close to your hearts tightly when you are a nameless person in the waiting room of life.