1 BOOK..7 DAYS

Ashes has at last been won, Ponting at last (with a sigh) is down in the dumps. So a victory much needed at last arrived at the shores of Thames. Again a sigh……too many though ,but this month has been a month of sighs. Sighs of many types, like the one that came in the hope of having an internet connection in our room, that which came when all the grievances of the project were satisfied, or that golden one which came when I answered nine back to back word meanings asked by a batchmate (who like others made 2 mistakes- considering me Norman Lewis of English and asking from Norman Lewis’ Word power made easy). But amongst all these sighs the one that was penchant, ticklish, exorbitant, exuberant and having all such multisyllabic emotions of the same kind, was when I returned that book in the library, that book, that ‘great’ book, which made me the ‘Mahatma’ for seven days of its issue.

Barely a month have passed when I have started discovering Bareilly city as one of my hide outs, as I have left the hostel. Still that hostel building calls me, to relive all those magic moments of the past three years, for one more year, one last year…and I bewildered and amused, take refuge in that grand citadel of ours , the library. That building dipped in limestone has always been the same , like an introvert ‘n’ obscure father, who has been there to listen to the wishes of his son, in the same manner, both the times, when he was a hosteller and now ,as a day-scholar. ‘ In that heaven of my college’ I found a book.

Great people, even not so great ones have talked about intuitions, about premonitions, where in before doing a thing you are able to perceive with a crustal clear vision the consequences of that deed(generally grave), but still you commit it. That book looked at me..err.. it winked at me, there was something unusual in our meeting, I could calculate the ‘raised eyebrows’, ‘wide opened mouths’ that I had to face through this book, but still I was induced to it. I looked here and there, opened some pages, shuffled it with my hands , knew something wrong was happening but my relation with that book was turning to an enigmatic love affair. At last I decided , I issued it, I made it my guest , my mate, my partner for the next 7 days. The book was “MANUSMRITI”, , it was in “HINDI”,was an ancient indian “SHASTRA” and I HAD ISSUED IT.

AT THE ISSUE COUNTER : That robotic librarian,stopped like an old hanged XP machine, saw my reg. no. and branch twice, assured that I was a B. Tech. student , and murmuring a few words, gave it to me.

DAY 2: I carried that book with me to the lab, all the compilations and interpretations of an old C program of crypto were being done, suddenly a girl saw that book in my hand , all the compilations stopped, programs stopped giving results, lab was, as if , in a complete chaos , what happened? She had seen that book in my hands.

DAY 3 : Till now I had understood all my premonitions of the library, I was reading the book, and more than that I was reading people who were reading me at that time. So I took a day off and started analyzing that book, had study session

DAY 4: My roomies saw it. That’s what happened , nothing, they watched me, I peeped more into the book, they tried to savor me with their touch, I tried to find the meaning of its Sanskrit shloka. One of then , I saw it, didn’t blink for about a minute, and then suddenly burst into a laughter that made his eyes watery for at least an hour, nowhere to go I slept and that laughter continued.

DAY 5,6 : I locked myself,didn’t do anything , just tried to find the answers, of that non stop laughter of last day, that unrun program, of last to last and that librarian’s weird looks. Now I was just looking at that book, I was not giving attention to the book, but , I was asking that book. And that book, it seemed, on hearing my question was jumping with laughter, those hindi words , that pure Sanskrit script, danced before me, and told me the reason for that librarians’ weird looks. That classic title, MANUSMRITI , came forward, hugged me and whisphered to me all the logics of that hallucinated lab. And at last the title , the honour of being a dharmashastra, came forward and uttered the answer for that laughter night. Later I knew the concept of those premonitions, those premonitions were the visual definition of a modern youth where a young gut esp. an engineer was not supposed to read hindi, let alone shastra. We were in an age where we were moving towards tomorrow and as if paying homage to the roots of our yesterday was not in vogue. That book, by winking and laughing was telling that falsified reality.

DAY 7 : I read the last part of it, enjoyed it, went to the counter to return it,to my surprise the new librarian didn’t show any emotions. And now came out with Khushwant Singh’s “In the company of women”……next day I gained some respect, perhaps that of an engineer, thus having the greatest sigh of relief.