The abandoned library

Published On:Tue, Mar 17th, 2015
Current/Daily/Poetry| ByThe Vox Kashmir THE ABANDONED LIBRARY
Tags|kashmir|Sana Shah—

By Sana Shah

With the established connection,Seconds after switching on the monitor
A notification popped up informing me
About a new mail having the address of
An ancient Library abandoned decades before,Not known, not visited by any human
In this land of metaphors.
The review apprising of the veiled rooms
Of that venerable library, having:
All archaic records, antediluvian magazines,
Antique scriptures, precious books;
Ledge after ledge compact with volumes of books
Cabinet after cabinet packed with lost documents
All but now beckoning my existence:
A question of identity- displaced or misplaced!
Overwhelmed with the venue of my answers
I note down the address of the library
But who else shall with me dare
To peruse the giant library
Stocked with millions of books and
Scrutinize the grimy shelves that with difficulty
Shelter the unheard cases, longing to be settled,
That once would fit into the headlines
Magnified in black ‘BOLD’ italics.
Who will dust off the history
On the sanctimonious lessons and organize
The fables of saints?
Who will arrange the symbolic manuscripts
Parallel to their genre;
GRIEF HAS NO GENRE; YET IT SURVIVES AND STILL THRIVES
So the missing pages from the tales of grief
Will be finally found there;
Soaked in blood, those lacerated biographies
That all publishers repudiated.
Thousands of journals defying curfew
Lying  imprisoned with the memoirs
In the drawers, manacling the hurled stones and broken glasses piled up in the walnut cupboards.
The ominous ambience of rumours in those
Timbered lockers, knocking and claiming
Their rights to be recorded in form of stories;
The paeans and poems of the anonymous poets
Alluring the readers that no longer exist.
The aura of inexplicable despondency
Minimized in words yet maximized in font.
And will I discover the log of that
Impassioned revolution, that once had danced
To the tunes of the ordained rhythms.
So many books, so less the time;
Who will accompany me to that place
Now a refuge to ghouls, spiders, cockroaches,Mice and silverfish; all avidly waiting for
Someone, anyone to open the iron gates that
Enshrine the crevices for entry into that
Sacrosanct hall of books now only
Vulnerable to human touch.
The dilemma confounds my sensibility-Those records should not be divulged -to All,Only to the prudent minds.
Hence, will not my visit to that ancient hall
With fresh history pave way to those-Waiting outside the iron gates,Engaged in complicity all day long
But my anthology of objectivity lurking in
The shelves behind the veils must be brought back
Safely by me…but at the cost of?The other books destined to be ravaged with
The entry of the first streak of light.
And then…The paradoxical slogans will ensnare the vale
And this ravening pillage of identities (once secure)In the library shall beguile the revolution that
I, received in my inbox and again the pages will
Be left blank in the books of history!
Hence, I must behold, and think and ponder
Before I reveal the address, before I write
I must think before I discard the mail,
Before I walk; and decide again for that journey
Into that arcane world alone, Yes- I must think
Before I jump into this abyss of complexity that
Out of sheer ignorance demands this sacrifice!

Author Bio:
Sana Shah is young aspiring freelance writer currently pursuing bachelor’s degree in humanities. Sana tries to encapsulate themes based on current events depicting the identity conflict in a state of perpetual trouble at the same time accentuating the humanistic values from the perspective of ordinary into the extraordinary dealings of the metaphysical questions about the human existence and the attached values thereof.
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