Sometimes I am annoyed by myself. The reason is simple, I buy books that I don’t read. Ever. I never really go for a book shopping for more than two books a time, and once or twice I have been I made sure that I have read them all. But there are some books or the other when in time I glance on my shelf that brings back the happiness of buying it but the guilt of not reading it. I must day, I like buying books. Books which are lesser known. Books in series. Books with yellow pages, rusty covers and that smell!
I don’t think I am harming them in any way even if they are lying soundlessly on my shelf. That’s what we readers do and we do it by having good intentions in our conscience. We have the best of intentions and never the worst of intentions when buying books. Sometimes it is a result of a peculiar obsession. Either obsession with the cover, or that smell, or the writer. Continue reading “Buying Books I Don’t Read”