Sundays at Oxford

It's been a long time since I made my customary visit to Oxford book store on sunday evenings. So, to mark the occasion I borrowed a A4 sheet and a pen to record little nothings that happen around.

• "Hey, I know that woman". An ABCD with this twirling accent comes to life behind me and points his finger at a book on MS Subbulakshmi. "My dad thinks she's a bloody good singer". I am wondering how his dad would react if he actually heard him calling MS a "bloody good singer"
• A beautiful girl just walked past and left the scent of her perfume for my company. There's a blister on her sleeveless arm - probably a burn. Blisters look painful; especially on a sleeveless beautiful arm
• The waiter comes with a menu, a small notepad and a capless black pen and asks me what I want. "Silence", I tell him. We smile. Every table in a coffee shop are households. Most of them are noisy. The rest of them are raucous.
• Strange words are like beautiful strangers. You meet them once and are intrigued and then you meet them over and over again. Sometimes, you don't want to know more about them (What does the word mean? Is the girl nice or mean?) coz the mysticism has a charm to it.
• "Don't judge a book by its cover". A thousand titles are screaming for my attention right now and here are things that my decision to buy is based on:
• The title
• The font size
• The quality of paper and the size of the book
  
• The price
  as you see, not necessarily in the same order :)
  
• Every year, there's one author who's in vogue. 2003 belonged to Paul Coelho. Alchemist was the one thing that divided the entire human population into "Have reads" and the "Have nots". 2004 belonged to Dan brown - an old firangi woman is gushing to her husband that she's read all of Paul Coelho. Sorry lady! You are an year late. Brown is the shade, hue and cry of this year.
• ... and lots more. But now, I gotta go!