Memories of my School Library

How did we start reading.. there would be somebody there in our past who initiated the habit, if not a person, it could be a book that caught our interest…

The mention of the school library promptly brings back the picture of a grey-haired, dignified, serious-faced and petite Martha Ma’m – Martha Alex. She was the permanent figure there, the Head Librarian. The library and our reading habits grew under her supervision. Her assistants changed almost every year. They were mostly candidates preparing for their civil service exams, determined to make the cut, doubling up as our reading guides and friends. A job as the Assistant Librarian was near perfect for them at the time as the place gave them all (to be fair, most of) their study material, discussion groups, experts to clear doubts with and a quiet corner to recollect all what they had gained.

Initially (that is for the majority of my 14 years), our school library was on the topmost-floor, near the old auditorium (old because we had a newer one built beside the school’s main building a few years before our batch graduated). The entrance was at the corner where the steps came to an end. It was an exercise to climb all the way up to that floor when the bell rang for the Library Period introduced in the school time-table when we are in Class III. 45 minutes when we had to give that restlessness a slight nudge to be quiet.

Martha Ma’m had the eyes of a hawk, ears of a dog, and her eyes sparkled whenever we made some noise beyond that pin-drop silence. It was always very quiet in there and mostly dark (of course, there was enough light to read the fine print).
We had a large seating area with long & heavy, polished brown tables that ran the entire stretch of the room (and the room was quite long, u know, half of that top floor corridor almost) with backless benches for us to sit on to read, write or even sleep on either side of the tables. One of the walls (the one on the side of the corridor) parallel to these tables was lined with cupboards. Their doors had small square glass planes so that we could see and read the titles of books stacked within. Reference only, it said in bold red letter, a stack of the big fat Britannicas, Collins and Americanas, 24 volume Oxford dictionaries and other hardbound heavy books, too heavy for a Class 3 standarder to lift. And from the opposite wall, lined with windows, light streamed in where dust particles played with each other in the air.. a phenomenon we were taught in STD XI.

The open bookshelves were behind the Librarian’s chair. It was a separate area, demarcated by a banister that ran along the breadth of the room to the right side of the door with a small opening for an entrance – a kind of rickety garden gate. The tables were on the left. When our names were called in the order of our roll number we walked up to Martha Ma’m to collect our abridged versions of the English Classics. In Class 4, she introduced us to Enid Blyton. When in Class 5 we were to write summaries (not copy from the blurb) of the stories of the books we read every week in a page of a 200-page lined note book. By this time, we were the envy of the junior classes. We were part of one of the four school houses, and in the library, we could go up to a shelf behind Martha Ma’m to select our 2 books for the week. One unabridged English Classic and one popular book. Here comes the best part we could sign our names in the library register next to our name :))

Like the old Christmas Card in that old dusty trunk the library brings back sweet memories for me…..and you ..

Pic Courtesy: LibrarianReading Habits

Initially posted at pins & ashes
I love to spread smiles… and that’s what I think I do best, can tickle the funny bones of more than a few folks.. can tickle their senses by creating some excitement with tales and pix of food and films, some material I read,  some games, a few pranks, and  a lot of chatter… Vaayadi Pennu aka Aswathi Jerome aka PNA, the ELT type according to a Menon girl & a Bawa boy is a true Aquarian, as crazy and creative as it gets.. and she talks & writes a ton when in the mood.. 🙂 & she blogs at pins & ashes

How I came to love reading

Five years of my schooling life were spent in Bombay at my uncle’s, so that I could get a better education in Bombay. There were other reasons too, but that is for another blog. I was put up in St. Gregorios High School, and those are one of my most memorable times I have had. One of the two life changing classes that I had over there was Library. Like all other subjects, we had a ‘Library’ class once per week. During this period we were to sit in the library, and return the book we had previously issued so that another one of our choice could be issued to us. Quite simple actually.

I was indifferent to reading books before that, and didn’t bother much except for the text books or the mandatory book we had to issue every week. Our librarian saw this, and I will be ever so thankful that she started recommending books. It started with ‘Great Illustrated Classics’, which are classic books like Oliver Twist, Journey to the Center of the Earth, Frankenstein, Black Beauty, Alice in wonderland and so on. These have a large font print one side and an illustration on the other. They soon had my attention. Once I had exhausted the entire series, I was told to select other books myself. When our names were called, we were encouraged to spend time in front of the books, read their jackets and pick one that we liked.

A sample of the Illustrated Classics (via classiccaseofmadness.wordpress.com)

As we got into higher classes (standard 6 and above, I think) the books we could choose from increased to include Goosebumps, and Shivers. They were such a wonderful read. However the incident that made me passionate about reading took place soon. Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew were popular in our school, and the library had a huge collection. Generally boys read Hardy Boys, and girls read Nancy Drew. As part of a bet I had to take up Nancy Drew. The librarian saw my sheepish look when I asked for a Nancy Drew, and asked me what was going on. When I explained, she just laughed and told me that for a good book, it doesn’t matter if the characters were male or female. She put me at ease and I started with ‘Nancy Drew and the secret of the slumber party’. I was hooked. I was now issuing books by the day instead of the regular weekly Library period. Every day, I would come back early from the evening games and finish my studies so that I could read Nancy Drew. The next day I would finish lunch quickly so that I could exchange the book for another.

And then Harry Potter happened. My friends were already into it. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which is book 3 of the series was already out. I started with that, worked back to book 1 and then read the lot in sequence. I was hooked. We would spend our day discussing the book, challenging each other with trivia questions, or who could remember more spells. Newspapers were hounded for any news of the release dates of the next book. Since the school library would get limited copies of the book, we had a waiting list which went across classes. The list was public, and it was common knowledge as to who was reading the book and the next person in waiting would be after them to read it faster. We were playing a Harry Potter Trivia session in the bus, when we had gone to Bangalore for an interschool event. (We had gone by train, and the bus was for travel within Bangalore.) The principal happened to hear us go at it, and told us that if read our syllabus books with even fifth of this much devotion we would all be getting full marks.

We were encouraged to write reviews for the books we read, and the better of the lot were put up in the bulletin board. It was not an official contest or event, but we felt a pang of pride if our review was put up on the library bulletin board. We had classes only weekdays, but were allowed to come to the school library and read periodicals, Nat Geo, encyclopedias and other books that were not issued to be taken home.

As I grew up, many people told me that Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged are two books which are a must read. When I asked them why, nobody could give me a satisfactory answer but just said that these were mind blowing books. Why and how the books did blew their minds, they didn’t know. Their minds were blown because they were told that was the reaction they were supposed to have. When I was doing my internship at General Motors (where I work now), my mentor told me that I remind him of Howard Roark. When I asked who, he told me about the Fountainhead and offered to loan me his copy. I said no. With the limited pocket money I had, I purchased a second hand copy of it for myself.

Reading that book for the first time had been an interesting experience. There were times I was nodding in agreement at what I read, there were lines which I had said myself. Same in essence, and a little different in the choice of word. There were also things that I only hoped I had the courage to do should the time came. Quite naturally Ayn Rand had my interest and I read Atlas Shrugged as well. It was an experience similar to Fountainhead, only more profound. Soon I had a job, so I ended up with all of her books that I could find. If you do want to read her fiction works, then read them in order of Anthem, We the living, Fountainhead, and finally Atlas Shrugged. It makes for an interesting study in not only the objectivist philosophy, but also in Rand as a writer. With each book you can see how her characters evolve, how the plot has more depth, and how the plot arcs reach out and meet each other.

Sometime last year, I was re-reading Atlas Shrugged. I had a strong reaction and felt like hurling the book across the room. I was going through a particularly difficult time, and was reading how the characters were dealing with their own lives in the book. Part of me thought that how could they manage to hold through through much tougher things when they only had themselves. The idea that they’re fictional characters and not real also came to me, at which I was about to throw the book. However I also thought that it was not who I was, and the characters were the kind I always wanted to be. Even before I had read or even knew of the book. Better sense prevailed.

As a practice, we never called the librarian in school by name or as a librarian. She was to be conferred with as much respect as we gave our class teachers. Which is why we addressed her as ‘Ma’am’. In retrospect she has taught me as much, if not more, as any other teacher I have ever had. It is she who gave me the love for reading.

 

About the Author

Hrishikesh is an Automobile Engineer based in Gujarat, India. He enjoys cooking and loves eating chocolates. He believes that he doesn’t have enough time to read all the books, and watch all the films and series that he wants to. He blogs at http://andiwrite.com where he posts his short stories, and shares his recipes.