A day worth
remembering
27
December 2025.
A date so special that the normal day around it doesn’t even matter. It began
like any other, but the excitement had actually started a few days earlier,
when my junior casually sent me a picture of a book fair happening at NTR
Stadium. I saw it, smiled, and moved on—but somewhere inside, I was already 30%
convinced I had to go.
I
asked my sister if she’d come with me and checked with my mom for permission.
She said yes. That small “yes” quietly turned an ordinary weekend into
something unforgettable.
The plan that suddenly got bigger
I
also told my “online brother” about the fair—someone I’ve known for almost two
years but had never met in real life or even spoken to on calls. Our entire
bond existed only in chats.
When
I mentioned the book fair, he immediately said, “Can I take you there?”
It sounded impossible. I was sure I wouldn’t get permission for that. Still, I
asked my mom… and somehow, she said yes again.
That’s
when excitement met anxiety.
I’m not the kind of person who easily meets new people, and this time I was
going out specifically
to meet someone for the first time. The idea thrilled me and terrified me at
the same time.
Reaching NTR Stadium and the book hunt
I
woke up early and got ready to leave by 11:30 a.m. It takes about an hour from
my place to NTR Stadium, so I wanted to be on time. When I reached, confusion
greeted me first—I had no idea where the entry gate was. I ended up circling
almost the entire stadium before finally spotting it.
Students
had free entry with their college ID, so I proudly flashed my ID card to the guard
and stepped inside, officially beginning my quest for a very specific book I
had already decided I wanted to buy.
I
am not someone who hoards books just for the sake of it. For me, every book is
a memory capsule. I had spent days researching which one book I
should bring back from this fair, and my heart settled on The Midnight
Library by Matt Haig. I already knew his writing and had read two
or three of his books, but I hadn’t realized he was the author of this one too.
That made it feel even more special.
I
wasn’t sure I would find it there, but I wanted to try. So I went stall to
stall asking if they had it. Finally, at one store, the seller stopped me and
said, “Wait.” He searched through stacks of books for a while and then handed
it to me.
Holding
that book felt magical.
Not just because it was pretty, but because I knew, from all the reviews I’d
read, that this was one of those rare books people keep as a memory, not just
as a story.
After
I paid, I decided to look around until my brother arrived. At another stall,
one seller noticed my choice and said, “You have very good taste. This book is
quite collectible—it’s a bestseller.” That one line made me a little extra
proud of my inner reader.
I
also bought two magnetic bookmarks—one with a Harry Potter theme and one with a
Messi theme.
Harry Potter everywhere and kids
who love Kalam
The
overall vibe at the fair was amazing. There were a lot of people, though maybe
a bit less than what I had expected—perhaps because of the timing or because it
was the last day of the fair.
There
were so many school kids on tours. My school never took us to places like this,
so seeing them made me quietly happy and a little nostalgic. Some kids were
even performing dances on stage.
At
every fiction stall, there was one constant: Harry Potter.
Harry Potter books, Harry Potter bookmarks, Harry Potter-themed everything.
Everywhere I went, I could hear someone mention it. I kept wondering—are they
all genuine Potterheads, or is it just collective FOMO (fear of missing out)
dressed up as fandom?
The
fair had stalls with English, Hindi, and Telugu books. At one point, I noticed
a small group of kids intensely looking for biographies of Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam.
They were genuinely excited and determined to find those books. It surprised me
in the best way—kids this young, actively searching for Kalam sir’s life
stories. I wanted to talk to them, but they were with their teachers, so I just
watched from a distance and smiled. It was a beautiful scene.
A proud father and a debut author
While
randomly wandering around, an elderly man stopped us. He told us that his
daughter had written her first book and asked if we could visit her stall, have
a look, and maybe buy a copy if we liked it.
We
went there and found her sitting at the stall, signing copies of her book. She
was very humble when she spoke to us. We told her we had met her father outside
and how proudly he had sent us to her stall. She smiled and said, “Yes, my
father is my biggest supporter.”
She
signed our copies, and we wished her all the best for her future books. That
small interaction felt like witnessing someone else’s dream taking shape.
After
roaming for another hour, I ended up buying one more book for myself. Because
why not?
The moment my heart started racing
Then,
my phone rang.
It was my online brother. He had reached.
This
was the moment I had been both waiting for and secretly dreading. He was at the
gate. My heart started beating so fast it felt like it was trying to leave my
body before I did.
I
went towards what I thought was the entry gate, only to realize that the exit
gate was different and I would have to walk almost another half-round to reach
it. While I was still figuring this out, I suddenly saw a familiar face walking
in through the entry gate.
And
I just froze.
There he was.
We
finally met.
I
showed him the books I had bought, and we started roaming around the book fair
together. We talked a little—but honestly, my nervousness had turned my voice
into a low‑battery version of itself. Even the words I wanted to say got stuck
halfway.
The
whole time, he kept insisting, “Tell me what you want, I’ll buy it for you.”
How could I explain to him that his presence was already everything to me? I
didn’t want
anything else from him.
But
he wouldn’t stop. At one point he even said, “If you don’t let me buy something
for you, I won’t let you tie rakhi.” Emotional blackmail, sibling edition.
Eventually,
we went to an ice cream stall, ate ice cream, clicked a few pictures, and then
I tied a rakhi on his wrist—something he had promised he would definitely do
with me someday. And he kept that promise.
When reality feels like a story
The
day was so good that my brain struggled to process it. I even told him,
“Bro, my brain is telling me to share everything with you—that I went to the
book fair, bought books, explored all the stalls, and even met someone. But my
mind is forgetting that the ‘someone’ I met… is actually you.”
It
felt unreal.
Because it was our first meeting, but the bond didn’t feel new at all.
For
me, this day was full of “firsts”:
·
My first time visiting a book fair
·
My first time meeting my online brother in real life
·
My first time buying The Midnight Library as a memory and not just as a
book
Staying
in the middle of so many readers, so many stories, and so many little
moments—it felt like being inside a living library.
Why books matter to me
I
will definitely go again if I get another chance and buy more “special” books.
Because for me, books are more than just printed pages.
You
know, I can always read the book as a PDF.
But sometimes,
a physical book is a way to preserve memories. Every single book I own is a sign
of some moment, some phase of life, some emotion that I want to keep with me
forever.
Har
ek kitab jo mere paas hai,
woh kisi yaad ki nishaani hai.
A closing quote for the day
“Books
are not just stories we read; they are places we visit, people we meet, and
feelings we get to live twice.”
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