People, places and libraries open to world of goodness

The library is an arena of possibilities; it opens both a window into the soul and a door onto the world. –Rita Dove, American poet Public libraries are not the spots on the itinerary while visiting tourist destinations. But whenever I go on a trip, I make it a point to check on the public library of the place. Often it reveals much more and tells many stories than the shining malls and magnificent buildings.

One of the most charming and rich libraries that I visited was in Agatti, an island spread over 3.2sqkm, in Lakshadweep. It was situated in a quaint building around the street corner. One has to leave one’s footwear outside on the street to enter the library. I went there to spend some time before heading for the hotel, thinking that it would be a tiny official collection but soon I realised that I could spend hours in this paradise of books on the tiny slice of land in the midst of the Arabian Sea.

It was a treasure trove of books, new and old, classics and contemporary. Common citizens of all ages were busy reading books, magazines and newspapers which have travelled a long way across the sea to open for them a window to the world from which they were geographically cut off. That such a small community of 8,000 individuals invested in a library was a telling comment on Agatti’s residents.

Thornhill Mayne Memorial Library at Alfred Park in Allahabad is another library that I cherished visiting, not only because of its Scottish Baronial Revival architecture, but because of the hordes of readers sitting inside and even outside the library building, deeply immersed in their studies. It suited the epithet, Temple of Knowledge, as there was a sombre air of purpose all around, with thousands of books standing guard for the precious wealth that they were holding inside, and students poring over them as dedicated devotees. Allahabad, a city of educated people, is known for producing civil servants; the library, I could see was an extension of its desires and aspirations.

But the library for which I have a special place in my heart is the library of my childhood, the District Library at Chamba in Himachal Pradesh, located in the Akhand Chandi Palace, once the abode of the royalty. The library is in a huge pillar-less Darbar Hall with large windows with grand views of the valley. The majestic architecture enhanced the settings and provided dignity to rows of glass panel cabinets containing books of all forms and sizes. I remember the feeling of awe I felt every time I entered its portals after signing the register at the entrance.

The librarian, a beautiful and kind lady, sat under a stained-glass window. With her large key ring holding keys to all bookshelves, to my child’s eyes, she was the embodiment of splendour and power, the queen of the library. The grandest part of the palace was made to house a public library instead of the office of some important government official. It was an indicator of what the community thought was important for its welfare: Investment in ideas, collected wisdom and access to the goodness of the world.

I COULD SPEND HOURS IN THIS PARADISE OF BOOKS ON THE TINY SLICE OF LAND IN THE MIDST OF THE ARABIAN SEA