So today I went to the library to return my books. It was ‘Ignorance’ by Milan Kundera, in case you were wondering. In my last college the librarians were really rude and were always irritated at something or the other. When you asked them to find a book for you, they just sent you to some other person and so on. In this college, it’s sooo much different. Generally, there is a man sitting at the counter who is very pleasant and also talkative. He is the one I usually go to. Today, he wasn’t there. There was a woman instead. I told her I wanted to return the book, she asked me what the genre was and what the title meant. I was taken aback for a moment. I thought for a minute and then told her that how it meant ‘deliberately not knowing something’. She was intrigued. She then asked me to tell the story. I was never any good at verbal communication. I told her what I could. Storytelling is definitely not one of my strong points. Finally, after a conversation of five minutes she let me go. It was a good one too. I began contemplating her life, being a librarian, how amazing it must be. I was reminded of the time when there was a library behind my house when I lived in Bangalore. I could look at the numerous shelves of books through the window at the back of my house. I used to go there and issue books everyday, sometimes three times in a day! The librarian just let me sit there for hours and go through the shelves. It was one of the best times of my life. And then, we shifted to another place. All good things come to an end!
What I was getting at was that I have always wanted to be a librarian, or own a book shop. It would be heavenly, spending your whole day in a library. But I understand that you begin to hate whatever you invest too much time doing. So maybe a part-time job would suffice. And maybe I would sell the book-shop after a while. To quote Jorge Luis Borges: “I have always dreamt that Paradise will be a kind of Library”.