TIME at Blossoms

Those who watched the original Doordarshan Mahabharat series will recall the resonant phrase: “𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘏𝘰𝘰𝘯” — 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦. Profound in itself, here, Time is no longer just an abstract abstract measure, but a living personality. And guess what… I met TIME. I met TIME at the Blossoms Bookstore in Bangalore.

At first glance, TIME appeared smart, glittery, and loud, right in my face. These were the bestsellers: hardbound covers with prices in both Dollars and Rupees. Many were self-help books, celebrity titles, or books that may or may not have been written by their famous authors. I strolled past that polished table and drifted deeper into the labyrinths of the store.

You don’t know it, but you have entered space. The lights get dimmer. Down one book-lined lane, a couple debates the romance of Shelley and Wordsworth. I pretend to be knowledgeable, reaching for books that might make me seem more in tune with these philosophers of life. Literature, in any language, is perhaps the greatest, most tolerant, and yet the most controversial religion I know. On an aside, I am sure you already know which book is the most published in the world.

Have you ever stared at the ceiling with nothing to do, only to follow your thoughts as they wander from one alley to another until you wonder how you ended up on a highway far from where you started? Blossoms felt the same. The shelves had layers — books behind books, books under books, books above books. It was like pulling out a brick in the wall, only to uncover a hidden vault of your subconscious. Behind Amish lurked 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘦. As you probed further and dropped a few books, you may have just pulled out a thin copy of 𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘓𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘭.

This shop had a large collection of second hand, third hand, fourth generation books. There were these familiar faces from the past which transported me to the small book shops of Lake Market where you could buy, sell or borrow books. As childhood favourites such as Pearl S Buck, Agatha Christie, Jane Austen stared at me, I was surprised to see a large collection of Mills and Boons winking at me from another corner.

TIME leapt about like a restless frog, uncovering memories hidden under cobwebs in the subconscious. It tantalised me with its varied perfumes. A little girl walking out of the store buried her face in her book, inhaling deeply. Books and TIME smell different depending on when you meet them, sometimes musty with memory, sometimes warm with passion, sometimes alive with new beginnings.

I had travelled Around the World in much less than Eighty Days. Like Ganesha circling the universe, I visited Tolstoy, Murakami, Han Kang, and V.S. Naipaul in the short span of an hour.

At last, weary but fulfilled, I felt it was time for a cup of Dorje Second Flush Tea. But TIME tugged at me once more — leading me to a tattered stack of Phantom and Mandrake comics. Mandrake and Xanadu, as you know, are my inspirations for Second Chance House at Selim Hill Tea Garden.

On that note, TIME and I parted ways, landing once again in the present.

Dedicated to my 3 sons, Sparsh, Shrey and Smayan, each of whom claims it was his idea to take me to the Blossoms Book Store.

Write to me at Editor@Dorjeteas.com

To buy Dorje Roasted Tea, click on https://dorjeteas.com/collections/black-tea/products/roasted-flush