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.
