My British Raj

“Show me your books”, asked my aunt, glancing at the bulging bag that hung from my shoulder. “Hmm… Nevil Shute, Maurice Procter, - what? J. Krishnamurti?” I was embarrassed, as any 20 year-old jobless youth whose achievements till date were a bagful of dreams.

The year was 1977; my aunt was a retired teacher of English for a long time in Zambia and had come to visit us in Trivandrum. My mother said – “Akka (sister), this boy has no ambition. He doesn’t study well, he smokes, he dreams and all the time he is shut up in his room reading all sorts of books”. I looked at my aunt and said – “I may not be ambitious but I have ambitions. Only problem is that I don’t know how to go about realizing them”, and felt quite smart.

My relationship with the British (Council) Library in Trivandrum began in 1977, the year I graduated. One had to be a graduate to become a member then, if I remember correctly. All through the years till March 2008 when the library was closed down. It has been a lifetime…

In those days when there was no internet, libraries were our windows to the world, other than the movies and documentaries which would always be a couple of years old. And what a world it was! Sight & Sound, Country Life, Punch, Geographical, Autocar, Flight, and a host of other journals and magazines – and the books! I met J Krishnamurti at the BCL, attracted by the title of his book, ‘Commentaries on Living’. In the Eighties and Nineties, all my information on environment and wildlife was provided by BCL. The huge illustrated reference books which I opened reverently, with great awe and humility! The stern librarian, Mr.Parthasarathy, who was an English butler personified! The members kept pin-drop silence. Elders looked down at us bums over their spectacles with disapproval – my perpetual corduroy trousers and cotton kurta was so infra dig!

Years passed – the library acquired computers and videos, as the books diminished. In the late Nineties ( I don’t remember exactly when ) they started culling the number of books by selling them to the public. How many Mondays I have taken leave to wait at the doors of the library – at the stroke of 10 o’clock, make that headlong rush to grab books! Some devised a strategy of coming in groups and pick up the books greedily, rapidly and then at leisure go through them for the final list to purchase.

By the beginning of the 21^st century, the culture of the library underwent drastic changes. Youngsters came mostly to browse the web and borrow CDs. Many of the Indian civil services aspirants in Trivandrum hogged the tables. The kind of books that I wanted – environment, biology, philosophy, conservation, old British authors – alarmingly became near extinct. Though with a waning interest and a heavy heart, I continued to visit the library, in spite of the hefty fees. And then in 2008, the final goodbyes were said.

Those who have been members in the British Library of Trivandrum would fondly cherish the memories. It was one of the few places in Trivandrum where you would find the vestiges of dignified behaviour. It will always have a place in my heart; just as the many books I bought secondhand from the library has a special place in my shelves. It nurtured, moulded and guided my life to a great extent. Everything in life has to come to a pass; so too the British Library. Just like the older USIS Library and the Gorky Bhavan ( Soviet House of Culture)in Trivandrum which were shut down long ago, the closing of British Library has created a vacuum in our hearts that will never be filled. It rang the end of an era, the breaking of the last links with the British Empire.

******* ** Balachandran V, Trivandrum, 13.10.2010

See also: http://bpradeepnair.blogspot.com/2007/12/british-library-thiruvananthapuram-to.html

photo courtesy: http://moorthyblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post_07.html