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Dan Brown’s Day In Court
One day last week, I didn’t know exactly why I did it but I just picked and opened the pages of Dan Brown’s “The Da Vinci Code” once more and read through it from the beginning like I was reading it just for the first time. I was traversing the length of the stairway of our house one morning and when I reached the topmost, the book just presented itself as it lay over a pile of old and dusting medical books, ruggedly stacked above an old wooden cabinet. I instantaneously decided to just pass by it, immediately recognizing it as that “one famous-book” that I have read sometime last year. However, its golden-yellow cover almost shimmered like hidden treasures amidst the aging humongous books that I went one step backward and just grabbed it almost without thought—like I was hypnotized crafty Mona Lisa smile on the book’s covering. I used to reread many of the books that I have read in the past , especially those that affected me so sublimely like Pat Conroy’s “The Prince of Tides” and Amy Tan’s “The Joy Luck Club” but I never scoured the pages of a novel that I read just about a number of months ago, like six months. It usually takes the passing of more than a year before I did any rereading. But I read “The Da Vinci Code” even though I felt that I just read it yesterday and I was a little bit amazed that despite of that, I actually enjoyed rereading it—like it was the first time all over again. This could be the reason why this book was hailed as ultimately groundbreaking and truly phenomenal. I have a feeling that there’s no serious reader left out there that haven’t got to read it.



