Bharati Bhavan Library, Chowk, Allahabad

A day in 1923.

The reading room is full.

In pin drop silence,

The regulars turn the pages

Of the morning papers.

One, a student, reaches for

A copy of the Modern Review,

Newly arrived.

At the issuing desk,

Some are borrowing books:

A detective novel in Urdu

In two volumes;

A free translation

Of a poem by Goldsmith

Printed in Etawah,

Titled Yogi Arthur.

The books

Are still on the shelves,

Their pages brittle

And spines missing.

New readers occupy the chairs,

Turning the pages

Of the morning papers.

Turning pages too,

But of dusty records

In a back room,

Is a researcher from Cambridge, England.

It’s her second visit,

And everyone here knows her.

She’s looking at Indian reading habits

In the colonial period.

Outside,

On the pavement,

Is a thriving vegetable market.

Amidst the stalls,

A knife-grinder sets up

His portable establishment

And opens for business.