Loan a Book, Lose a Friend; 'Bookcross' It, You Befriend the World

I asked a friend the other day if I could borrow his review copy of T.S. Satyan's Alive and Clicking.

"Yes," he said, "if you would return it in ten days."

I didn't like the idea of his setting a time-limit, though his terms are perfectly understandable. His experience, as that of million other booklovers, must have been that books loaned to friends are rarely returned. Reminders usually don't work.

Satyan is my friend as well, but I couldn't ask him to loan me his own work. I wouldn't want him to think I can't spare even the Rs.300 (discounted price) for his book. Truth is, I haven't paid that kind of money for any book. With the price of books, marked up to a three-digit figure, I can't recall having bought a new book in years. My collection has been built mainly on purchases made at used book fairs and pavement spreads, review copies sent by publishers to my editor, and, of course, some borrowed books I neglected to return. The late C.N. Chittaranjan of Mainstream used to let me keep the books I reviewed, so long as I didn't press for payment to review books for his journal.

I like showing off my humble collection. However, when someone mentions borrowing a book, I have no qualms about making excuses - "Oh, that book; it really belongs to my nephew."

Some guests, who can't take a hint, promptly pick out another book, and ask, "Can I borrow this one?" "Absolutely," I say, and add, "actually, I'm half-way through reading it; you could have it when I am done." Words such as 'absolutely,' and 'actually,' have, frankly, no meaning in my vocabulary. I usually use them to embellish my lies.

Occasionally, you confront a friend who doesn't stand on ceremony. He simply picks a couple of books off your shelf and says, "Hey, I'm taking them." They might be the very books that you plan on reading next. Telling him that would not help. What do you do with such friend who knows you well enough not to take you at your word? Distance yourself, stop calling him, don't return his calls, do anything that would keep him off your book-shelf. It's not because I value friendship less, but because I treasure my books more.

I doubt if www.bookcrossing.com, a fantastic concept, would make waves with the likes of me. I am not even sure whether bookcrossing would work in my town, where people prefer to dispose of unwanted books as raddhi, rather than giving them away or leaving them at a public place. I can't think of very many 'drop' points where you can leave a book with reasonable expectation that the person who picks it up would be 1) literate, 2) English-knowing, 3) someone with a flair for reading, and 4) someone who doesn't sell it as raddhi.

Bookcrossing, with a membership exceeding 500,000, and spread over 120 countries, works for those who believe that the whole world is a public library, in which we are all readers. There are no owners or loaners, only book-movers. The website, founded by software developer Ron Hombaker, has apparently generated such a buzz among book lovers that the word 'bookcrossing' has been added to the Oxford dictionary, to mean the practice of leaving a book at a public place, to be picked up and read by others, who then do likewise.

The concept is based on 3Rs - read, register it for a BookCrossing ID, and release the book 'in the wild.' All you need doing is label your book with BCID tracking number and web address - www.bookcrossing.com; stash it somewhere at a public place; and post instructions on the web explaining the whereabouts of the book. The person who picks it up logs in his finding, quoting the tracking number and the location from where the book was picked up.

A copy of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility released by an American tourist in Italy, at a public place in Tuscany, found its way to Florence, where another tourist, from Baltimore, picked it up from a bus station while taking shelter from rain, took the book with him for a read as he traveled to Havirov, Czech Republic. He later 'released' it at a phone-booth in the Czech town. Bookcrossers are reported to have left their books at Starbucks magazine stands, dentists' waiting rooms, on trains, on ferry-rides and seat-racks on transatlantic flights. I read that at the passenger lounge of Helsinki railway station they have designated bookshelves for bookcrossers.

Bitten by the BC bug someone wrote, "when stuck in a boring situation (staff meetings etc.) I daydream of new and creative places to release my next book 'in the wild.' Writer Cindi Myers says her novels are considerably better traveled. She found her books have been 'freed' at Paris, Texas; and Paris, France. They have found their way to Australia, Canada, Puerto Rico, Tehran, and to the US troops based in Afghanistan.

Among the bookcrossing junkies are authors who find it a refreshing exercise. Says Jan Moran, "As an author I write in solitude. What a great way to follow our little 'children', to learn of their deeds and misdeeds, along the way." As another writer put it, "Now I know what to do with all those spare copies sitting out in my garage."

A web posting by a book-finder, addressed to the person who 'freed' the book, noted, "It's a lovely idea (bookcrossing), but I don't think much of the book you left". Hollywood screenwriter Ross LaManna (Rush Hour) observed, "As soon as the hardcover of my humble first novel is done I'm setting three copies loose, with BCID stickers on them. If you come by a copy of Acid Test (a thriller), please give it a read, upload your thoughts and pass it on".

A school teacher has found in 'Bookcrossing' a wonderful teaching tool. She has been in search of some clever ways to encourage her students to read, and spread the word about joys of reading - "the idea (of bookcrossing) has all the anarchy, gypsy spirit and in-your-face attitude that appeal to my students." She says, "I have put my students to work, gathering books of their own and releasing them in the wild, as a class project".