Love, a four letter word that is a whole other world. Things are are not quite the same while one is under the influence of this most potent of all drugs. Is it just a chemical state of mind of comfortable bliss? Or is it a dangerous substance that has to be controlled by those that be?
Here is a neat article by the good folks at Duckbill which was written for indie bookseller week, check it out there are a whole bunch of passionate booksellers covered and two more gems of Bangalore (Light room & Atta Galatta) :)
On what seemed to be like any other ordinary day at the store, two cute girls walked into the store. Could have been customers, we were nice and then somehow the conversation was rotating around religion, I suggested they go to Pota in Kerala which seems to have a mass brainwashing center, they were almost rubbing their hands in glee. (In most cases we firmly believe talk about religion, politics and sports should be best avoided – totally pointless conversations). Then one of the girls dropped a bomb.
Can we pray for you???
A couple of years back we had the pleasure of accosting Amish while he was getting out of his ride for the Bangalore Lit fest. He was a really sharp dude and immediately warmed up to us when we said we were book sellers. Listing to him at the panel discussion was sheer pleasure but, FUCKING, BUT!
Was at a friends house and was vegging in front of the television and I saw and advertisement for the fucking Koondyle by Amagon, the man is a fucking mascot for the doom of the book selling industry. We wish you sell a lot of your new book, we hope you sell a lot of the earlier books, the trilogy is awesome, it is easily readable, it is a tale of Shiva a common hero to all casts from the north, south, east or west. You are good with your writing, BUT you are a fucking sellout and should be ashamed of yourself, seriously.
This one will certainly go down as an expose on the secret life of delinquent booksellers…