Quarter Price Books
I’ve had an interesting day, as one does in Houston. The most diverse city in America is as international as it is American and Texan as can be. Today I found Houston being more Austin than Austin when I visited a used book store in Montrose called “1/4 Price Books.” In that store, an Osho book found me as did a novel from my year of birth, reminding me of the Alchemist’s lesson that when we feel lost someone will find us to remind us that we are indeed on our way.
The bookstore, located in a strip mall, is as eccentric as can be. When I first entered I was greeted by a younger, vigilant man who spoke English as a second language named José. He was as much welcoming as he was literally right in my face, as the store is crammed full of index card-labeled bookshelves to within inches of where the door swings. Those shelves too are full. Shortly thereafter an elderly man, seemingly the owner or proprietor, also greeted us with the energy of a person who may well have read every book in that shop. Classical music played in the background and there were benches and seats in the narrow aisles, suggesting one take their time and peruse. As I entered I was experiencing perhaps the greatest used bookstore I had ever set foot in.
In the first aisle and section one would walk past sits a collection of classical medical books and anthologies. They were fascinating specimens I could see being of relevance to someone with a background in the field or with very particular interests. I glanced at them admiringly but had little interest. Actually it wasn’t I who chose to visit the store, but my girlfriend. She was looking for a book to read at the Gangnam Spa that afternoon. I was hardly keen to enter but my resistance turned to intrigue the moment I stepped in. I felt at once at home and on a mission. I knew I’d lead there buying a book, and I did; two in fact.
What eventually caught my eye was Osho’s Tantra: The Way of Acceptance. Many books are attributed to Osho as the author, though all are actually collections of his discourses written by his followers. I’ve read a few of those books and found them fluffy, but I never read any of the ones titled Tantra. As someone who has written a fair about Tantra, that now strikes me as odd. That book was one of the few sitting facing forward on the shelf and it pulled me like a gravitational force. I sat there and read it for a good 20 minutes as my girlfriend continued to browse, and was enthralled. I had never thought to consider Osho’s teachings with too much seriousness given the history. But in the 25 or so pages I read in those 20 minutes, I sensed the text was a transmission of a consciousness that saw truths as I do. Clearly I was going to buy this book. Then my girlfriend reappeared with a book she said she thought I’d like. That book is called “Westwind” by Ian Rankin. I can’t tell if I will like this book or not, but I suspect I may.
The front inset describes a tale of “cat-and-mouse espionage suspense.” I don’t really know what that means, but I saw that the book was first published in 1990, my year of birth. That also happens to be the year Osho died. A not very high threshold for coincidence was sufficiently met such that Westwind became my second and final quarter-priced book purchase of the day. As I was checking out more came to reaffirm the almost spiritual experience I had at the shop.
The old man sits behind the counter. In front was a cheery, white-bearded almost Santa Claus-looking man who may once have been just a customer but was now a friend of the owner. When the owner saw the book I had selected, both men exclaimed: they had been discussing that very book the previous day. They told me they had had a long discussion about Osho. The owner had read a few of his books, but rarely came across opportunities to buy them. The book that found me was indeed the only Osho book in the entire store. That’s remarkable considering that there are over 600 published titles attributed to Osho of which dozens are bestsellers. The owner expressed his belief that the lack of available books suggested that the owners of Osho books were rarely willing to part with them. I can see why.
As my girlfriend was checking out, she got to talking about how she had spent a lot of time in Africa and that we were planning to visit Kenya. The owner then gifted her a National Geographic from 1969 which included a feature on Kenya. When we got home, we realized it also had a feature on the moon, which is auspicious as we have been almost jokingly talking about the moon constantly. Shortly after we first met we binge-watched “For All Mankind,” an alternate-history fictional show about the space race. We found it odd that the show from a few years ago foreshadowed so much of what has happened in the last few months. More on that later, and enough coincidences for now.
