They say that an empty mind is the devil’s playground. The devil might have had a field day in my mind, but if you read through this post, you will wish why was it that the devil didn’t come and take you before you decided to click that link. In other words… you have been warned.
Bookworm Goes To Bollywood is my mind wandering and wondering what would a love story be like between a Bibiliophile and a book he/she loves.
What if there was drama and tragedy in this relationship?
What if music formed the central core of this story?
What if…
There once was a Book that lived in the farthest corners of a bookshop. It was blue. Not that it wasn’t sad, but that was also the colour of its cover. Its neighbours would change time and again and many a friendships were formed, but while the book sat there, year after year, it would some times at night sing, in a whisper, “Aayega Ayega, Ayega Aaane Wala, Ayega”. (If, this legendary story every gets made in Hollywood, we can always replace the songs to attract the western audience, and might I suggest that “I’m Blue Da Da De Da Da, I’m Blue” would be a great and peppy way to start the story. But that’s for another time).
Just like most stories, the winds had to eventually change. There is a small possibility that someone chose this isolated area in the bookshop to fart, and those were the actual winds of change. But, foul smells aside, one day, a pair of hands grabbed the book, in a delicate way mind you.
Bookworm, the one who was the owner of the two hands, was smitten by the colour of the cover and couldn’t help hum that latest song he had heard at New Years, “Blue Eyes something something blah blah Bomb Lagti Tenu, Bomb Lagti Tenu”. Obviously, when the bookworm continued to repeat the last line of the song, everyone at the bookstore panicked. The police was called and so was a bomb disposal unit. It took a while and our Book was finally given a thorough run down, but in the end Bookworm and Book were together.
Book wasn’t happy about the entire hullabaloo that had just happened over nothing and would keep falling down, trying hard to show its disinterest in Bookworm. Finally it was when Bookworm sang “Aaja Meri Gaadi Main Baith Ja” was the Book happy at the prospect of travelling the world, and jumped into the Bookworm’s arms and stayed there.
Bookworm, on the other hand was ecstatic. He had wanted this very book for years and now he had it. He had found himself a book that he loved, and he could totally relate with the song that played on the radio, “Tu rang sharbaton ka, main meethe ghaat ka paani”.
Thus began a friendship like no other. Bookworm would go nowhere without Book. It was said that often people would look and smile as Bookworm and Book would walk down a busy market singing, “Yeh dosti hum nahi choodenge, choodegen dum magar humsafar na choodenge”.
So much was their love for each other that children made jokes about them. One would ask “What did the Bookworm say to its all time favourite book, one that he likes to read again and again?”, and the other would promptly sing, “Rath lag gai, mujhe to teri rath lag gayi, lag gayi”.
Not only that, but many versions of this joke were being played out now. A child would ask “what if Book is a graphic novel, then what would you sing?” and the others would all shout, “Espiderman espiderman tune churaya mere dil ka chain”, the now popular cult Bhojpuri song.
All good things must come to an end. This was bound to happen between Bookworm and Book (puns are always intended). One day when Dhokuworm came to visit Bookworm he laid his eyes on the Book and wanted to take it, albeit temporarily. Bookworm being the good friend that he was, agreed. Dhokuworm crossed his heart and promised that he would return Book in good condition and on time.
But, the damage had been done. Book was heartbroken at how easily Bookworm gave up on it. As it went away into foreign hands, it flipped its pages and sang “Dost Dost na raha, pyaar pyaar na raha”. (The English version of the story can have Book singing, “Shot through the heart and you’re to blame, you give love a bad name”.)
Dhoku toh Doku nikla. The book was not returned in time. Bookworm had no idea what had happened and if Book was even with Dhoku. His calls went unanswered and slowly and surely he lost faith in friendship and whenever someone would ask why he was so gloomy he would sing, “Kyuki har ek friend kameena hota hai, haan hare ek friend kameena hota hai”.
As the news spread, society couldn’t help but make the most of someone else’s misery and once again jokes began to emerge. People would ask, “What did Bookworm say to the Book that he lent, but was never returned?”, and everyone else would respond by singing, “Hum tere bin ab rehe nahi sakte, tum hi toh ho wajood mera”.
Finally a miracle happened. After months of praying a message came from Dhoku and Book was being returned via post. Bookworm couldn’t help rejoice and ran to the nearest place where a Bollywood song was being picturized and joined in to sing, “Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram, It’s time to party”.
The Book finally arrived. Bookworm opened the package but was aghast at the condition Book was in. He immediately began caring for it. Every night he would sit next to Book and gently caress it while whispering “Dekh lo ek baar edhar toh, Main hoon na” to it. Book was also happy to be back home and slowly but surely started to get better.
It took months, but finally Book was as good as new. He sat Bookworm down and asked him, “What did the Book say to Bookworm after he took care of him?” Bookworm didn’t know. Book, in a rather shy manner sang, “Saans me teri saan mili to mujhe saans aaye, mujhe saan aye” (That’s CPR for those of you who didn’t understand).
Finally, they had a reason to go out and both stood up together and shouted “Where’s the party tonight?”
They went around the town, but eventually realized that in their quest for each other, over months and years, they had left behind everyone else. They were social outcasts. Now it was only them, Book and Bookworm.
This is where the camera pans away and we see both Book and Bookworm together, hand-on-page, sitting on the corner of a not so busy street, under the streetlight on a moonless night, engrossed in each other.
FIN.
Now, if you are still with me, I want you to do one of the following;
If you liked the story, then leave a comment.
If you hated it, then make sure you do leave a comment as this may persuade me to never attempt such a fiasco ever again.
If you even remotely hummed one of the songs mentioned in the post, you HAVE to leave a comment.
But, if you absolutely loved the story and think this is the greatest story ever told, then don’t leave a comment. Don’t say a word, because as they say, “silence is golden”.
The above was concocted in the mind of one of our founders @raghavmodi. We often worry about the future of our club after reading what goes on in his brain. However, to keep things civilized, we normally don’t say anything to him. Do keep this a secret. In the meantime you may follow his blog Ticker Eats The World, where he apparently writes about food and travel, from places he has actually, in person, visited. Never knew people still did that.
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