The usual unsualness

Tossed in reclusive corner of the library, I thought to my self "just another usual day". It was the usual corner. The usual corner with the sweet smell of books fused with the damp smell made fresh by sweet hum of the air conditioner. The usual corner with desks left with graffiti by people who found their presence wandering or felt unheard. The usual corner with a desk having tones of red. The usual corner with colourful chewing gum stuck to the desk to add missing hues to it. Fruity juice drained out of them and stuck with precision and aesthetic skill to the walls of the desk. Stare at it for a while and you could visualize too many things left by the marks of their teeth and thumb like a prehistoric animal left on the fossils. It was the usual corner lit with fluorescent lamps that enlightens you with the luminance of knowledge. The usual corner that secludes you from the world still giving you peeps through the blind slitted window.

How unusual is this feeling. I stared at my notes, but I looked through it. I had an unusual hum in my head. Not being able to concentrate, I started to mutter every word that I read. This is one of my mothers favourite technique, to keep the pendulum bob fixated. I tossed every word like a confident gambler flinging his playing card one at a time slowly on the table to announce his win. But the bid was lost. My mind was like a kite on a stormy Sky. I failed to keep it under control. I took a deep breath, hummed as I exhaled through my mouth. I rose from my adobe, my altar.

I walked though the walls of books. Books of different shapes and size neatly kept in rows like soldiers at librarians command. Books with thousand words waiting to be read through someone's lips. I looked at them and said to my self "Books that demand presence". Books that were numbered like prisoners in their numbered cell waiting for a visitor, a reader a browser or to be picked. Mute books with numbered pages like faces that express themselves. As I walked I noticed couple of me wandering in this desert of books deserted by people. People lost in books. People lost in thoughts. People lost in other people's thought. People lost in talks. I walked pretending not to notice them. I walked with confidence yet still having the jitter of a confused compass. I had to admit I was lost. I stopped and stood still at the entrance to the study and books section. I looked around like an owl trying to demonstrate his necks 360 degree turn. Every one was lost in their own ways and yet pretended not to be. I felt my pocket. "There it is" I murmured. I pulled out my music player ( She is known as frost bite). I plugged my ears to deafen the voice in my head. "Lost for words" was the right song. Swiftly passed by the self check out counters with people swiping those mute prisoners, I had left unheard. As I traversed I noticed the Librarian unoccupied at the desk. She was buzy with her tedium yet radiating a smile and waiting to serve. I conceived of how we tend to abuse technological advances. We tend to make ourselves islands. If John Donne was alive he would have not said "No man is an island". It is certainly more fun to exchange few words with her and get your books checked out rather then doing it at those self check outs. I exited through the emergency exit to the steel cold spiral steps.

I walked a couple of steps and sat on the steps that poked me with its roughness. I was sitting next to the sign that read "Emergency Exit. Do not obstruct." I took my cigarette out and lit it. I stood and walked a couple of steps up and a couple down. I swayed to the music like those trees to the wind. I was impregnated by an infinitesimal thought of "smoking kills". I felt cold hands of guilt touching me. Chill ran down my veins. I searched for the nearest bin. butted it with hatred , with smoke oozing out of my mouth. I walked hurried the place I was before. The desk that acts like a venus fly trap with shades of red that entices me. This is where I stop and get trapped with no signs of struggle. Soak me in your juice. I beg to be lost.