Love of libraries
Last week's Life into Arts soft-pedaled my coarse opinions about
libraries. I was thinking of it, when, in a second or so, I fell into a
reverie. It was perfect timing for a siesta.
I woke up in a debris of books. I had no idea how long I had been
biting the dust on that rusty floor. I coughed up no end. I opened my
eyes to see a large three-sided bookshelf surrounding me. From the
corner of my eye I spotted a man in rags. It was a man who was quite old
but not feeble.
"I'm Peter de Silva."
"I'm Sachitra. Sachitra Mahendra," I heard my own wheezy voice, "and
what are you doing here?" I tried to be polite, hoping the conversation
would not take a turn into the worse.
"Well I should ask you that question: what are you doing at my
premises?"
"Your premises?"
"So you don't know? I see. Anyway this is a library. I don't think
any of your folks have ever seen some of these books."
"You are the librarian here?" "I was. No one cares to come here
anymore, but I don't mind looking after these precious books."
"How old are you? Hope I don't offend you by asking that question."
Peter broke into a smile: "You have three guesses."
"80." Peter shook his head in negative.
"I'll pass."
Peter smiled again: "110."
"Oh, my goodness..." I didn't voice my thought.
"Tea or coffee?"
I wondered how this 110-year old man is going to make any of that.
Anyway I said 'tea, please'. The way he moved along, so brisk and
smooth; is he bluffing?
"Now lad," he said taking two cups of tea on a tattered tray, "let me
know the library techniques of your age."
"I'm not a librarian."
"Come on boy, you don't have to be a librarian to tell me how you
people read."
"Ok, our libraries have various resources apart from books. Videos
and so on." "So on?"
I thought so on shielded my ignorance. "Well there are audio
resources. You have something called Internet too." I was not sure if
the old man had heard the word before.
"Internet." I repeated, enunciating the word.
"Oh yes I remember someone explaining that. So what do you do with
that?" Peter questioned, running a hand through the few tufts of hair on
his head.
"It has books, videos, audios and other information." I had a quick
gulp of another sip, "we read books as hard copy. It's a soft copy now.
You type on a computer, and you call it an electronic book."
"I see, go on..." He said sipping his tea slowly.
"It's somewhat multifaceted. There are websites selling books.
Amazon.com."
"Just like a bookshop."
"And there are sites offering complete books, free." "You can call it
an Internet library, I guess."
"Online library, to be precise. People call it piracy though.
Torrent, for one. You can download online books or films to your
computer. Then there is Project Gutenberg , the largest online storage
or library, I think. People buy electronic books or scan hard copies and
upload them into a website. There's another interesting thing." I was
not sure if I deliver myself to this man, and I was expecting him to
interrupt as a favour. But he did not.
"Some websites have reader forums."
"Such as?" He asked.
"Wait, I'm explaining," I was suddenly irritated, his interruption
was quite off course, "Some websites are called goodreads.com,
bookcrossing.com, bookarmy.com and recently another one was launched -
pothpath.com. These websites are full of members."
I paused to look at his expressionless face.
"You can list, rate and comment on any book you've read."
"So you don't have physical libraries anymore?" "We do.
Just that we are slowly getting used to virtual libraries."
"Are you a library member?" "I was. Well... I like to own books for
rereading and reference.
I read the first few pages, and sometimes the middle, before buying.
I have never been unhappy with any of my buys."
"I think your generation is more generous."
"You think so?" I was quite startled.
"You said books are freely available on the Internet, right? And it's
piracy for some. Anyway it may take some time for anyone to put
something up on the Internet.
Whoever does that doesn't get a dime for the job, but for happiness
that others get a share too. That's charity."
All I could do was stare at him in wonder.
"I'm too old to enjoy your world, but your information means a lot to
me. Come, I've got something to show you. Ever present, but still
something."
I followed him to the old crumbled down window. He was gazing out in
silence. I gazed out too. And then together we watched the pale sundown.
That silence was the lull, for a moment, I could spare.
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