Weigh what you Read

The game was in good progress. We had started to create a formation for making the goal. Each player had started to mark a player at the opponent and it made the game more interesting. It was just a 12 year herd playing a time pass football match. The ground was really tough for us to cop up with, the contour was fluctuating for the full length. The match was interrupted suddenly and I saw Arif and Ajith flooding to the right corner of the ground. I shouted at them and asked to get back in to the match. We got hardly an hour a day for games in the busy schedule of Navodaya,my school. I understood they were running a bit seriously, and i joined them. I saw someone sitting on the steps laying the head on to the lap. Afsal was standing right next to him. He was consoling him. As I advanced to the spot I could identify that it was Sadique and found he was crying. A millions of conclusions came to my mind. May be he might not be well, or he might had heard a bad news from his parents, even it could be a love failure. And for clearing the anxiety of the gathered audience Afsal said. ' The library madam didn't allow him to take book from the library.' I waited for a second pretending to hear more. Then I understood, that was the thing. I wondered why he had to weep for not been provided with a book. Sadique sat up. His face was red as if he was going to fight someone. His hands were restless, sometimes hitting on the wall, wiping the tears that streamed on the cheek, and squeezing the fist. We were in a total confusion on what words to console him with. For rest of us it wasn't a thing to act so. sadique was really different from us. He used to spend most of his free time on books. He took a book each day from the library and would return the next day itself finishing the whole hundred pages or more. It happened that the Librarian was somehow angry with him, and refused to lend him a book on that day. I only felt sadique to be crazy for the reading thing. As a type of imitation i had also tried to make a habit of reading some books. But I was never good at reading that I could use them as sleeping pills. It was raining quite unexpectedly, and it stayed more than 2 hours. Its hard to get a rain in the middle of summer. The air was fragrant after getting the rain. The road became darker and clean and the breeze was cool enough to withstand the hot summer. I was walking on the busy roads of Calicut city. The road was deserted a few minutes ago. No one cares about keeping an umberla these days. I reached the road near the stadium. There were many street shops near by. I found a man with many wall papers. For a few seconds my eyes had a look at those scenarios and great personalities on wallpapers, without any intention of buying it. Right next to them I found a board Rs.10. I thought they are for the wall papers. But for my amazement I found a heap of English novels under the board. I couldn't wait long. I started to search among the books. My hands were too fast on the books. They were all books from English authors. They all costs more than 10 US dollars, and here they worth just 10 rupees. But there weren't books from famous authors. May be all might have sold out. Still I could find some authors that sounded familiar to me. As I was in a hurry I took 5 among those and left. I was much happy and that surprise wasn't out of my face. Walking more, I found more of them. There were 3 more such shops. I understood this is a common thing here. I also found a shop where there was selling and buying. But I smiled really when I found a shop with a board. ' I kilo of books for just Rs.50 '. I was smiling and thinking about it as I walked to the bus stop. Later I read those books one by one and found very interesting. I never felt like It was a loss. These books were worth much more, which even those shop keepers may be unaware of. If these authors are seeing this incident I am sure they would stop writing.