Since my childhood was spent in Calcutta of yore, my first introduction to books was the National Library there. I used to take a double decker bus from near my house and go to the library regularly from the age of five or six. And I used to make these trips alone.
When we moved to Hyderabad I was just short of eleven. And my first year was spent in and around Abids. My school was St. George’s Grammar School. My dad’s office was in a lane parallel to Emerald Galli. Ilyas book shop was on one side and central book publishers on the other. There was Taj Mahal Hotel. Vanguard Apparel’s. FD Khan. Kwality. 3 Aces. Lighthouse Cinema. Dayal’s. Bulchand. Kathiawar Stores. Saremasons. A medical shop run by the Uberoi Brothers. Finlay’s.
And there was A A Hussain.
Chocolates, sweets and trips to Havmor were treats. But visits to AA Hussain were bonuses of the ultimate kind. Dad would sanction a comic or two. A Mad Magazine perhaps. But I would spend hours looking at the books. The novels. The coffee table books. The reference books. While the rest of the family bought yards of fabric.
And I would say, “let me make some money and I’ll come back for more”. I went on to HPS Begumpet and moved to Banjara Hills. And the Abids side of my life became an occasional trip. Then I left Hyderabad for college. And then work.
It was in Chennai and Bombay that I first made enough money to be able to afford visits to Book shops. AH Wheeler started my campaign. Then in Bombay I discovered Strand by the day and Nalanda by night.
Somewhere in between, I was posted to a Hyderabad branch of an agency for three months and I did buy some advertising black books from AA Hussain. But I remembered my promise to come back when I had more money.
Ironically, the bookshops at airports, Bombay and Bangalore mainly, made more money from me than any other. I was travelling almost twice a week. And I was reading two or three novels per trip. More than three fourths of my library of several thousand novels have their front inner leaf detailing my trips and when I bought the book.
So AA Hussain kind of faded in my horizon. I would quite often remember my pact with the book shop which indeed had been the first of my favourite spots, but time and place conspired. And AAH remained a fond memory.
And now I hear they are closing down. Yet another curtain falls on the quaint old Hyderabad. Inevitable I suppose, with the Amazons and Kindles opening branches in every house. And the reading habit itself being relegated to history.
But I’ll always cherish the memory of an avuncular book shop owner, a bookshop where many of my dreams originated and a place where I first discovered that the smell of books could be an addiction.
I guess you had to go AA Hussain. I’m just sorry that I could not come back to you for more.
from Meta Search Alerts copy http://ift.tt/1DMEepn
Sourced by "The typist writer". The place where writers, bloggers, and publicists come to expand their knowledge in the field content production and publication.
0 comments:
Post a Comment