Libraries

Libraries are such silent places in the world, where one can hear how breathing differs from person to person. You almost hear everyone breathing.

June joined the library in the month of September and since then the breathing sounds have diminished somehow. June sits on the chair, closest to my counter and sketches. The sketching sound has somehow swallowed the breathing sounds. 

It's a treat to see how people's faces change when they are reading, some smile, some blush, some yawn, some underline, some panic, some bite their nails literally, some note down, some cry, some bend their eye brows so fiercely, you can almost guess what they are reading. 

June comes to the library only to sketch in the silence. Libraries are like temples people come to offer their dedication to whatever they want to dedicate their time.

I come not only because it's my job but also for the peaceful time I get to spend here with books.

Books speak louder than human, I realised here.

June never speaks to anyone, she doesn't even borrow books or read one, but she often goes through the shelves feeling the touch of some old, some new hardboards of the book covers.

Everyday I see her sitting in the same seat and sketching, she leaves when I tell her "it's time to leave the library to rest for the day."

One day I dared ask her to show me her sketchbook, she showed me and every page had a face painted on it with different background colours, scenes, places and whatnot but the face only has an outline with no eyes, nose, eyebrows or mouth.

Even without the features the pictures evoke emotions, convey their feelings.

I asked her "why don't the faces have features?"

She said, "Every day when my grandfather narrates me these stories of places, people and situations but he never describes the details of their faces or the emotions they reflect on their faces. So I guess them and try to paint them."

My curiosity knew no bounds and I asked her, "why doesn't he describe the faces?"

June said, "Because he is blind."