Paying For My Sins.

I’m not sure what it is about these librarians. I think they’ve all evolved into this strange new sub-species Homo Sapiens smile-and-your-dead or something.

I am acquainted with a few librarians, and not one has ever smiled, or exchanged even a “Hello” glance. Probably it’s something about me. Our school librarian always smiled, but I later found out that she had a huge crush on this friend of mine with who I generally was most of the time. She just loved that bloke, DJ, I shall call him. She waved of fines of Rs. 50 and upwards for him, her sweetheart. ( I know I’ll be killed next time I meet him.) She searched for every book he ever wanted to refer to. My spies even tell me she’s been to his house (highly classified and unconfirmed).

Nevertheless, I have never met with such luck. They are grumpy with me. Think of me as a pestering goon. Think I was born to pester.

And they always give a nonchalant response to whatever I ask.

Me: Good evening ma’am. How do you do?

Lib: Now what do you want?

Me: Er, do you have Lord of the Rings, perchance?

Lib: No.

Me: Er, do you have The Shannara Series then?

Lib: No!

Me: Oh, you should be having John Grisham, right?

Lib: No!

Me: Tintin?

Lib: No!!

Me: Eragon?

Lib: No!!!

Me: Shakespeare?

Lib: Yes!

Me: Charles Dic….yes? Yes? Where?

Lib: Search for yourself.

Me: Can you tell me how the books are indexed then?

Lib: No.

Phew. They pester me to no ends. I sat at the library for an hour. Searching for the book. Turns out they have quite a treasure there. I’ll be frequenting it more often now.

And then, they have this habit of talking in hushed tones so feeble, it’s like you’re at someone’s funeral.

Lib: Hush hush hush ppsss psss.

Me: I’m sorry, ma’am , I really didn’t get you. Could you please repeat?

Lib: Hush hush hush ppsss psss.

Me: (I bend closer) (A Bit louder) What??

Lib: Don’t you dare shout in the library!(Quite loud this time) I said, “did you sign in the register when you came in”.

Me: Oh….no. I’ll do that now.

And then, they are all so scholarly. A pair of glasses sit quite comfortably on all their noses. Like they have been there for eons. I once was so bold as to ask a old librarian to suggest some good books to read. And that was the best lecture I’ve ever got. He started, and except for a few gulps of fresh air, spoke at length in a monotone about how each needs to discover his own taste, genre by experience and not by an other man’s efforts.

I sighed in disbelief. And I sighed again.

They get all their lives to read, and read they do. And a lot. And wise they get. They shun the other species soon enough. But they are all amazing. Eccentric odd balls. But amazing people. Just one advice: Stay away.