Alien Landscape

liberating walls of tomes

an old scholarly reader scrutinised me and smiled at my nonchalant counter-stare, like a grandfather proud of a child. unconsciously obnoxious, i looked away. both of us got back to our reading; him with an old battered book which did not seem to belong to the library while i clutched my thin copy of Plath's poetry. around us was a world of fluttering, crackling pages and of wonders spilling from eyes mouths and papers. how i treasure my isolation in a place like this.

the library is a second home. save for the teen and children sections (which are filled with loud youth with no intention of reading), my family roamed the levels, deep in paraworlds. from the bespectacled girl deep in a biology reference book to that grand old man with a twitchy eye rifling a book as old as he.

it is the only place where i feel undivided by colour and religion. we are all readers; seekers of knowledge, hunters of laughter, tears and companionship. each desperate, each somehow content.

and of course it's a place where i don't get overwhelmed with society's stupidity, bigotry and ignorance that seem to be rampant on the streets these days, forcing plagues of misanthropy that leaves me sick.

marionettes on weakening cables
huddled up with fear and hate
because they know their fate and it's a lot to put them through

-The Shins in Fighting in a Sack

Posted by NHJ 4/28/2006 02:38:00 pm

Friday, April 28, 2006