Secondhand book stores in New York

Today I went to two secondhand bookstores on the 12th street and Broadway. Strand, the first store where I went was huge. Saying huge is not enough. Imagine, a stand for book, having books on each side. Each side accommodating 7 rows of books and each row spanning some 3 metres. Fathomable...? Well, now in a room, there were about 20 such stands and the bookstore had 4 such rooms. Now, I wouldn't want to dive into the calculations and estimate the number of books. The site has made our life by saying that they have about 18 miles worth of books. Now that's a unit of measurement I have never come across!

I knew about Strand bookstore but I had never really gone there. I had earlier been to Housingworks bookstore in SoHo which is a really good place too. It's not as vast as Strand, but definitely boasts of a good many books. Coming from a family of thrift shops, it has this really great window for bargaining too. A sizeable portion of whatever money is earned here goes towards charity as the books that sold here arrive through various book donation programs.

 And another book shop I went to was the Alabaster book shop. It was the best of the lot as it stocked a lot of authors whom I actually knew. Blame my ignorance but I like to believe this bookshop is where my home is if my home were ever to be a book shop.

I went to these bookstores with a person I met a few days ago. The person told me that killing time in these places is one thing on will never regret and spending time here discussing books and authors. Styles and preferences was an afternoon well spent. I didn't step out empty hand either. I bought two books -

Looking forward to completing these two books and going there again. I bought The Memory Keeper's Daughter from Housingworks which wasn't that great. Furthermore, its not one of the books I would like to be around in my "book shelf". I will most probably donate back to Housingworks where they can get a few more bucks by selling the book to someone else. Maybe that money will go to educate a disadvantaged child or rehabilitate an HIV/AIDS person.

The issue of being able to help someone indirectly is gratifying in a way because I might never be able to give money directly. For example, take Greenpeace. The other day, a guy and a girl hounded me near bryant park and told me about their agenda of stopping Mattel from getting land in Indonesia which would mean cutting down the rain forest. It's a great idea and while I fully support it, I can never come to donate money to them. Getting money out of me in indirect fashion would be the best way I guess...

last few months

I opened my blog and read a few posts. I realized that I could either sit on my ass, read my previous posts and let my feebly developed writing skills rot or I could try putting a few sentences on a regular basis. Wouldn't be too bad right? Afterall, if there is one thing I'm learning through dance it is that too much practice can never hurt you. Practice, practice and if you can practice a little more, practice a bit more!

It's actually a departure from what I might have said a few months ago. I believed in what came to you naturally. I still believe in that, but with the ferocity that has gone nimble in the past few months. I have definitely learnt a few things at the expense of some decisions in life. Gone are those days when I saw myself in exalted light and as someone would change the world in the years to come. Believe me I did! And now, I just think that guy is gone. In the place of an incorrigible optimist stands a 25 (!!!) old guy who is starting to get tired with the infinite chinese boxes game that life is playing out. He wants to just sit on the bench by the road and rest his body and take a break.

With my two close friends, loneliness and despair, I have set out on this long voyage in a far away country, uncovering dilemma at every step. Everything right now seems so strange and precise. Mind you, I'm not saying my life is precise. It's far from precise. If chaos was Mordor, I'm right somewhere between the black tower and Mt. Doom. I walk sometimes, wondering if I have that walking spirit in me. I get tired. Tired not because I haven't walked in sometime but tired of fighting the natural tendency of slowly slipping into a rut.