The Librarian with Laughter

Dave passed by a busy street. He felt isolated. He had read somewhere that solitude sometimes was the best society. He only felt the inevitability of that thought. Dave was in search of a purpose in his life. He was writing a novel but he feared that it would not live up to his expectations. Well, it can be a cliché to talk about writing in a story. But this is Dave’s story.

Dave found a charming young lady on social media. They were good friends, but Dave never had the courage to ask her out or meet her. Dave felt that in order to be in love, it was necessary to feel the love. Just because someone is beautiful doesn’t mean that you fall in love—Dave felt so. His only focus was to write better and find a life worth living.

Dave remembered his friends asking him to visit different places, but Dave was his own inner critic. He preferred books, movies and writing. Dave had composed 9 books of poetry and his poetry was published around the world. It appeared in anthologies, newspapers and online. He even wrote book reviews. Somewhere, deep inside, Dave appreciated his life, he just didn’t know how to show it. He felt writing was always inside him.

Dave was a bipolar person. He could not concentrate on any single work for a long time. However, he loved the spontaneous flow of writing so much that he just expressed himself in his writing. He would sit with his computer and keep typing. He could just flow in writing.

Dave saw the vacancy of a librarian at a university college nearby his home. He applied. He was called for an interview. He had studied Library Studies as a minor paper while he did his Master’s in English Literature. Dave had been a teacher earlier, and one of his brilliant students had appreciated the novel that he was writing. She had read its excerpt, and had shown interest in his novel. The only thing that was pushing him aside to work on his novel was his fear that it would be bad.

Dave found his inspiration in Bukowski. How Bukowski did not succeed in getting published in major literary magazines for almost thirty years. But Dave was in a state of compulsive writing these days. He felt the spontaneous urge in him, and this urge to keep typing was going to win the world. Who knows when the world will open up to anyone? It is in the waiting that you should seek the arrival of spring. At least seek proper time while you do so.

For Dave writing meant writing poems, book reviews, short stories and novels. He loved the solitariness of the writer. The morning tea, the jazz music in the background and a good time within the writerly abode made Dave happy. He felt so literary sometimes that he mistook himself for a true devotee. However, solitude was hurting him too. He had started to measure happiness in terms of success. His success was the work he was able to write. The conversation with himself when he wrote made him a different person. It was a change for good. It was like a light rain that fell like a festive kiss. Dave wrote in his diary about the interview for the post of librarian.

Difficulties are like nature. Nature teaches you adaptability. The first airplane flight when the airplane was invented might have been difficult, but it must also have felt like freedom. The wilderness of the forest does not hide the spring. Dave felt a thinly veiled world existed between his world and the real world. It was like the first minimalistic raindrops that fell on the piano keys, through the window. Even the tears of a piano player would make music if it fell on the keys. Dave was all about that literary persona. The playing of the piano should not stop, no matter how life hits you. If it hits you bad, you can still play good. Having control is the way to play with life, at least on paper for Dave.

“If only loving a person would provide us human affection, why would artists embrace their art?” Dave wrote it in his diary. He also wrote: There was something lonely about writing, but it came out bursting like firecrackers, and firecrackers create festivities themselves. Nothing appreciable is easy. If it is difficult it deserves doing it more regularly. I will keep playing with words and observe the transformative colors of ordinariness.

After writing this Dave felt like working on his novel. He continued to write and his student again commented on his work. He was writing on a writing app. His student called him, to thank. Her name was Maya.

“I could really visualize the scene Mr. Dave,” Maya said.

“Well, that’s kind of you Maya. I am glad that you enjoyed it,” Dave said.

“I am curious to know how your characters will begin their journey together,” Maya said.

“Well, that will be the start of my literary world,” Dave said.

“I haven’t picturized the wholeness of the story well. I need a silent kind of job,” Dave told Maya.

“Have you considered applying for any other job?”

“I have applied to be a librarian at a college nearby.”

“Well, I wish you luck. Philip Larkin was also a librarian. He published his novel too.”

“Well, I like a silent kind of job where I can focus on my writing and still work in that space. Then I can plunge into the starry depths of my writing career.”

“Only one thing I need to add to my writing career”

“Well, what is that?”

“Laughter,” Dave said.

“Well, that could come from your writing itself. Your writing makes me feel that you are really enjoying what you are doing with words, Mr. Dave.”

“I need a new world where I can create some joys and open up for some laughter.”

“Well, good luck with that Mr. Dave. I would love to be your witness.”

Dave went to get a newspaper. The result of his interview was published in the newspaper. He had also submitted one of his stories to the same newspaper, and it was published. The newspaper was a paying platform. Dave got the laughter he was searching for. He had passed the interview and now he was selected for the post of librarian. He was called at the office the next day. Dave realized no matter how small the platform there is always a joy in being accepted for publication. It was a seed that he planted, now it had grown up and he was ready to sit under its shade. The laughter which Dave was searching for was getting published.

He went to the library the next day. It was a huge space and it was cool due to Air Conditioner. He had an assistant who would maintain book tags. His job was to issue the book and guide the students to pick up the book that they were searching for. He was free the rest of the time. His assistant would sit on a computer and use social media. But Dave would type poems and stories on his computer.

His student came to meet him in the library with her friend who was a publisher, and a writer himself.

“You should start a book club in the library,” Jim said.

“That would be a good idea, if students support,” Dave replied.

“Poetry reading sessions could be organized too,” Jim said.

“We need better writers so we can publish them,” Jim added.

“That would be great! Among the best readers lie a vast possibility of great writers,” Dave remarked.

This was a university library and many students who were pursuing English Literature or even any other subjects were really interested to meet the new librarian who was also a writer. They were amazed by the books he recommended. Everything began to be too social for Dave. He was constantly interacting with young and curious minds of the university. Many students began to submit their book reviews and short stories to the newspapers around the country.

Laughter really meant the touch of patience. Dave wrote in his diary. Through patience it shines like the sun. It is like aging wine. My solitude is becoming a society. These were his words in the diary.

After a week, a poetry recitation session was organized by the students in the vicinity of the library. With a huge banner and publicity the mega event was held. The librarian was a writer, and for the students it was a moment of pride. Media presence was huge and many professors recited too. Dave was also asked to recite his poems and the students addressed his appearance as a special one. He recited his poems that had never seen daylight. It was well appreciated and he was photographed laughing after he heard the thundering claps from the students. He was never silenced by the job. After many years he wrote his memoir “The Librarian with Laughter”.

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