Murida Bombe by Beechi

 

I love shopping. May be that is one isolated thing, I share with other people of my gender. I love books. And I just enjoy shopping books. Leave me in a book shop. You will find a kid in sweet shop.

 But reading them, is a different matter. I have been collecting a big set of unread books. Keep thinking, first I have to finish reading the rented books from library. Or I am too young to read this book, may be when I am 60/70/80. Who can read Jiddus and Thich Nhat Hahns from end to end?  When Grey's anatomy or Packed to the rafters is beckoning you, teamed up with stumble upons and facebooks?

I have been reading a polish author's book about an Ethiopian emperor since last 2 days. I don't remember the book title and the author's name is difficult to remember and very very difficult to pronounce. Day before, I read  2 pages of introduction and yesterday I read 5 pages of the book. 

But back to book shopping, I used to shop English books. But today I bought few kannada books in "Bangalore Book Festival". Has a great collection of books. You must visit it. (In fact, I got a Toni Morrison for Rs. 105 and a Jiddu Krishnamurthi for Rs 65)

One of the books I bought was Beechi's "Murida Bombe" (broken doll). Beechi is one of the very few humor writers in Kannada. He was. The humor which is not vulgar or nor too dull. Yes, one more plus point his belief in God is like mine. Almost an atheist. 

Look at one sample from the book.

A woman as soon as the child comes out of her womb, puts him in his heart. That is why she always remembers him. Whereas a father remembers the son only when he asks for money.

Beechi is finding it difficult to fall asleep. Then he remembers someone's advice that the sound of falling water will help is falling asleep. He imagines water falling from a tap. He does not want to waste it. So he imagines placing a bucket below it. Then within few minutes he could not help closing the tap.

Then another friend's advice was to count sheep to fall asleep. But the moment he does it, he could not help but drool. Ahhh, biryani...

Thanks, Beechiyavare, wherever you are. You made me realize what I am missing by not reading our local literature. 

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