I recently graduated – actually, I finished my degree last year but only just had the ceremony – and a friend also returned after spending the last five months backpacking and I was bestowed some lovely bookish gifts. Funnily enough, this was one of the rare occasions where I actually did receive bookish things as gifts. Why is that irony so prevalent among us bibliophiles?
One friend gifted me The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga, last year’s Booker prize winner. I was most impressed that she actually knew who was the winner of the Booker prize so kudos also to her.
My spiffy friend who returned to the land down under a little wiser and significantly much more well travelled gifted me this beautiful bookmark. I squealed like a five year old when she gave it to me.