Civic Sanctuary

I went to the library this afternoon. My usual haunts are the TRL or BCL depending on my mood. Since I had errands to run at Bedok, I went there.

I love going to the library alone.

To me it’s almost like a sacred experience, a pilgrimage every time. I usually don’t have a fixed title that I look for. I browse through the shelves, touching the book spines, inhaling the musky scents that only old paper could have. The new books all sparkly clean and virginal. (Yes I could get excited wondering whether I am the first to read it!) I will be patient, waiting for a title to jump out at me or peer at the spaces where a gem might be hidden, shyly tucked away. I could spend 2 hours on that journey, taking my time to determine my selection.

I don’t think that the proverb “Don’t judge a book by its cover” can be taken literally although yes I do believe its idiomatic value holds up. Maybe I’m being superficial but I do judge a book by its cover. It has to speak to me - the look, the title and the blurbs. I know the book has sold itself when I go “Hello…what is this!” in my mind of course though sometimes I do speak aloud. Perhaps that’s why the library officers keep giving me queer looks.

In a way, these books have been my constant source of inspiration and motivation, especially over these past 5 years. Whenever I feel funky and in need of some wise or even not too wise words, I head down to that civic sanctuary. I know I will find comfort and consolation there.