The Good Old Books (II)

by shz

I went back to Bangsar last weekend.

I just got my pay and I was determine to spend RM35 which usually went to other unnecessary things like badly chosen blouse or pants that make my ass look bigger than it actually is to something worth keeping, something that by the time I finish reading it, it will feel like the cheapest RM35 I’d ever spent. I first went to MPH since its nearest to where I parked my car and left Daisy continue napping, with Fakhrul joining her in.

There was only one copy left and its in the smaller sized but the same price. I wanted the bigger one I saw last week, so I walked to the other end of Bangsar Village where Borders is and suddenly, The Kite Runner was nowhere to be found! I couldn’t find one and starting to get paranoid that the whole Malaysia read my blog and decided to get one for themselves too! At that point I was starting to regret writing The Good Old Books and went straight to the counter. To my relief, there was one last copy left and I almost screamed, “YESS!!”. I couldn’t believe it, last week there were like more than 10 copies, sitting at the Bestseller table, screaming to be read, neglected, no one wanted. So now I am starting to read again and thanks to you who commented previously, this time I also got A Thousand Splendid Suns for half the price along with the full priced The Kite Runner. I kept reading it every free time I could possibly posess. While waiting for my Nandos chicken to arrive, while Daisy’s having her milk, while Daisy’s sleeping of course, while waiting for Isya’, while waiting for the client, also while waiting for my white sauce to thicken.

It’s a funny thing getting hooked by a book. Suddenly all I could think about are words. Words kept playing, jumping around in my head while I’m doing things, imagining how I would describe it as if I am a character in a story. Although I’ve never intended to be like Khaled Hosseini.

I am now just through with Chapter 11. The Kite Runner could have been one of those long 2 hours epic picture, like Braveheart, Titanic or Saving Private Ryan. I wished they’d done every single thing in the book in the movie. Like Amir’s first word is Baba and Hassan’s first word is Amir. Or the more elaborated scene of Baba crying when Ali & Hassan were leaving. Or Kamal’s death. It would’ve been greater.

Oh well, back to burying my face on Chapter 12, about lying considered as a theft.

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