Have You Found Your Most Beloved Book?
I Have. The book is named Angela's ashes, a remarkable childhood memoir of an Irish man called Frank McCourt that helped me to cherish my own childhood; however lame or painful it was (the sweetness was there to be remembered).
You shoud try searching for one, and it could be anywhere that you might not even expect. I was rummaging among the dusty computer science books in the faculty library when i spotted a small group of unrelated books in smaller sizes on the shelve. Some of them that i remembered was a yellow book titled 'winnie the pooh', 'The god of small things' written by someone Indian based on her name, and a black book which pages i had flipped about absent-mindedly a couple of times before i decided to get my hands back on 'winnie the pooh' and borrowed it from a good-looking librarian at the counter. And then as usual, i will pause my move so that i could make my final verdict whether i will borrow one book at that time or more than one. I considered the week ahead of me; there are a few assignments waiting and hoping not to be ignored by me, i should not meddle with too much fictions for now. But heck, even if I have times galore I'll still start my assignment late and what's the point of considering. I turned and grabbed the black book I saw and read the title, 'Angela's ashes', well, nothing to lose and i shoved the two books to the librarian.
A few days after that, there was I in my room; gigling, laughing, frowning, and crying all by myself in the company of the black book. My roomate was worried sick and wondering whether or not I'm still right in my mind. I ignored her for as long as I can.
I returned the book when my time is almost up, and a week later i re-borrowed it like a mad bookworm. I found the same book when i wander around the bookshelves in a bookstore, and I bought it ,still without any consideration as it is my nature, not to consider very much before taking action. I returned the borrowed one and celebrated on my own belonging. I read the same book more than twice, and my roommate had had enough of me laughing and talking to myself that i think she tried to apply to the office for a new room. Until now, I can't remember how many times have I read it since I'm not a kind of a math-obsessor who would count everything he did and remembers it (In other words, I am dumb mathematically). Because of the black book, my roommate called me a bookworm and I hated her. I'm a person with feelings,not a worm.
Because of my generosity, my book went from hand to hand- some friends borrowed it since i couldn't keep my mouth shut about the wonder of the book. And it came one day, when my sister who lived far north came back and knew about the book. She 'borrowed' it and thanks to me, now the book's gone for good. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister more than any living thing.
It had been a few months after that, and I had money from the study loan. It just happened that I went into the MPH yesterday, grab the second 'Angela's Ashes' with a new brown paperback cover, and paid for it. Now, my sentimental value is back even if some people might say that my money had flown away unnecessarily.
This is to be a reminder, that this is not a synopsis of the book. So, if you really want to know, just draw some money from the bank and the book is everywhere to be purchased, I promise you (except for places that sells vegetables or places that are not called 'a big and well established' bookstores- this is my greatest effort trying to be funny). Or, you can just try to borrow it from libraries if you are a safe-side player. Read it first, buy later when you loved it very much.
p/s:The end.