A Good Buy ?

A Good Buy??

I am currently reading my first book from Paulo Coelho. I honestly didn’t think I’d liked it. But a friend of mine managed to slip it to my hands when we were going through one of our usual rounds in the bookstore. I had a couple of reasons why I had some misgivings about the book. To top my list is because I just told myself to put a bit of distance away from the mushy stuff. And this literary piece is after all a love story.

I practically spent a couple of minutes just staring at its cover right after I got it out from the plastic bag. Minutes where I again and again asked myself why in the world did I just spent money on it. I braced myself for another disappointment. It reminds me of my being impulsive. It reminds me of my lack of ability to think straight for the past couple of days — err weeks. And it reminds me of the reason why I was driving myself crazy finding things to do just to escape. I was scared, scared of idle time. Those moments where my mind is at a state of being blank and those things that I am trying to shoo off come crawling back in.

A friend warned me of the book being not the right one for me now. It’s a depressing love story. Not the usual happy ever after fairytale. Another reason why I just feel like crying holding the book in my hand. Not because I’d rather wished to have Nora Jones’ copy, but because for the simple insane reason that I had bought a LOVE STORY. I could have bought another one. I would have much preferred Dan Brown’s relic adventure, or John Grisham courtroom drama or Neil Gaiman’s insane view on things which makes you make sense of the madness around you.

I set the book aside and tried to forget about it. Maybe ill get back to it later. But some things really have their way of getting your attention.

And this morning, during my rushing to get dressed for work, I saw it again. Right there lying at my bedside table. After checking myself in the mirror and being more or less convinced that I looked okay enough to pass as a decent human being, I grabbed the book, shouted my “Bye pops. Office.”, and rushed out.

And since its summer, it’s a sin for me to take a cab. School is off, the streets are less busy, and traffic is not an issue. So there I was, early Tuesday morning, in the jeepney going to work and in the company of the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid for the last few days. Haha.

I opened it and started reading, and I was drawn. It certainly is something worth my time, my attention, my respect, my heart.

I usually am a fast reader, especially if what I’m reading is THAT good, but with this one I had to go back a few pages because … I don’t know just because. It’s beautiful.

Hehe, i’m not even one fourth the book yet, but it had held me captive already. I’m gonna take my time with it. The words speak of life, love, and pain. It speaks of reality and fantasy. It speaks of dreams, risks and fear. It speaks of hoping like a child and accepting things as grown ups would. It speaks to me. It is ME speaking.

More of the book later… More of “By the river Piedra, I sat down and wept.”