It's a small world

We live in a tiny world that never ceases to surprise us. A few months back a friend of mine got me some books by Roald Dahl. I read and reviewed The witches a couple of weeks back and after an interval of two serious reads, I turned back to Dahl for some much needed comic relief.  I've read used books for the bigger chunk of my life. It was only recently that I started getting fascinated by off-the-shelf  books in expensive bookstores calling out to me with their glossy covers and pristine good looks. The copy of The Twits I have is a used one. Opening the book, I saw something written on the top right corner of the page. In broken handwriting it said '1998 Happy Birthday Alice, Love Felicity' and it amazed me to no end that here I was, holding a stranger's 14 year old birthday present in my hands! I can't even imagine the places and the hands this book must have passed through to at last end up in my little book shelf, locked inside a glass door. 

 

I don't think I've written my name on a book that I've given away but lets say I did. What if someday, I get an email from a stranger living in the other corner of the world telling me he/she/it (could be a robot, you never know) that they have a book with my name on it- a book I read years ago; a book that made an incredibly long journey, captured the mind of each and every person who ever read it and that it now rests with a stranger who is somehow connected to me only by a page that has my name on it. Just like I am connected to Alice Bell (she wrote her name of the second page). Call me crazy, but I googled her name and sent an email to the first Bell that popped up!

Reading the book, I couldn't help but wonder how the same gruesomeness of Mr. and Mrs. Twit that made me flinch must have disgusted the previous owner of this book too or how the never ending evil antic of the couple on each other must have amused her just the way they amused me. 

I guess this is just one of the charms of the printed word.