Golpark has changed so much these days and yet you can find
so many books there even now in the age of the Ebook and the piracy and the
Kindle rising like a behemoth and everything going binary. In the future not so
distant we will recall Orwell’s Big Brother and not Asimov’s R Daneel
Olivaw.
Since Samhain will shortly rise, I must bring to your
attention these diaries about a library that has been built a long time ago and
continues to evolve. This is a family story. It has suspense and ghosts in it
or rather the dedications of those not with us, the post cards sent to a wife
from another hamlet by her husband and the telegram a son got from his mother,
away on holiday in Darjeeling. The hand written dedication in an Asterix comic
which a grandmother scrawled before gifting the book to her grandson on his
birthday.
If you look at one of the three copies of To Kill a
Mockingbird in this library, you will find one in which a mother now dead
has remarked that the copy is for her, for “She tried to teach To Kill a
Mockingbird. On his last birthday, the son of the house let his dear sister
add a book to this library when he accepted the delivery of Tamas by
Bhisham Saini.
It is almost as if this library has a life of its own, a
protector of its own and needs of its own. Every now and then, just as a woman
craves attention and a man likes his smoke or his beer, the library likes it if
someone stands in it and flits from shelf to shelf, picking out a book here,
putting back a book there or jumping into the room and noticing that this shelf
of books could do with some dusting.
Where did it all start though, this haven of bibliophilia? I
think it started sometime around the time a woman walked into a library and the
librarian told her that her usual chair had been occupied by someone else. This
disturbance in the Force must have led to a massive lightsaber duel, or did it?
What if the woman was not inclined to violence and instead found that the man
sitting in her usual chair was a PG Wodehouse buff and liked Bertie Wooster
more than Lord Emsworth?
Or could it have been the time that someone walking along
College Street suddenly found a copy of Sons and Lovers going for about
6 paisa and grabbed it and ran home in the rain and put it up there with Emile
Zola’s The Kill?
Where is this library, you ask me? Why? Do you want to meet
its custodian? Would you like to add something to it? Do you just need books
like a sword needs a whetstone or are you just curious about which wand chose
this wizard and if the wizard slew a Balrog or not? Or maybe the wizard in
question is akin to Destiny of the Endless, always writing the Fates of Mankind
in a book while his brother Dream gives William Shakespeare another idea to
cure him of his block?
You would be surprised to find both Gaiman and Shakespeare
in this library, as well as Asimov, LeCarre, DH Lawrence, Bruce Springsteen,
Eric Clapton, Jane Austen, Erica Jong, Irving Stone and Alistair MacLean.
And so, one day I will take you there and you can meet the
person who curates the library now, dusting it and arranging it and he will
tell you more about the books his mother left behind, the books he got from
Romania and the books he has had his eye on for some time now. What say you?
Would you like some tea with this man?
I warn you though, just as this library seems too good to be
true and while I know it exists, there are a few things about the custodian you
should know. He knows of witches who are adept at curses and hexes. He knows of
a person, advanced in years who is not your average warlock and he himself
keeps a record of the books in it on a certain device and makes sure those who
borrow from him give back the books they’ve taken.
A friend to those who want to read, this library’s stories
have been handed around to a group of listeners and he always knows which story
to tell. Just ask his friend AP, who had no idea of Gaiman before he narrated Sunbird
or Jay who found a fellow Arthur C Clarke fan hiding in the ship of the Ramans.
Yes, this man lives in the world of make believe more than
the world of things to believe in but he finds a curious safety in the realms
of the elves and the faeries, talking to ghosts about if they can eat food when
they’re dead or trying to decipher his grandmother’s recipe for mutton.
Come, let us go make our visit!
The Bilge Master
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