Life and death of a library

All is not well with this world. I know that to be a reality that hits me in the face every time I look around (and many times, when I don’t).

For instance, take this library of sorts. It’s one of those free libraries found in public places, on the side of a well-trodden path of tourists, who may or may not wish to spend a few hours enjoying a few pages.  It is situated in a small seaside resort somewhere, the exact location is not important. What is important though is the level of carelessness and “don’t give a flying” on culture, its preservation and such. And when these two actions are directed against books, I get upset. Because books were my trusty companions since always, my best friends and my fount of knowledge. I respected them, cherish and protect them the best I could.

A new book was for me a new way of looking at the world, a way of coming to understand life, of learning about this and that around me. A book was a shaper of character, a teacher, a continuous presence that supported and helped me in becoming an adult.

I am looking at something which is both ridiculous and tragic; no book deserves this, irrespective of being a best seller or not. Bruised, beaten, soaked by rain and battered by winds, what once was a place where knowledge and ideas lived, now is just a refuge for stray cats, bugs and wild brush. Sad.