The Bibliotheca

Poet: Pritisha

Row after row of crisply ordered books with their edges facing outwards

I see the cracked ceiling, dirtied shelves, and dusty cupboards.

The book covers creak, pages crumble.

I stand here at a forty-five-degree angle

in the oldest library because life is a scholarly work

and all I need is a bibliography of life, to fight all the havoc

I am yet to face. I’d be better off if I landed its handbook.

I crave to stay prepared because I don’t want to depend on a mere fluke.

I’d expect the worst in order to stay prepared,

I’d pre-prepare a contingency plan beforehand.

Glass half full or glass half empty, whichever way you may look at it,

all I see is I have to top it up with enough liquid.

Maybe I am structured this way because life’s a cacophony,

and everything goes wrong in monotony.

I keep getting bamboozled by life

it is probably damned strife.

As I stand in this library, I see a book of my life

with creased ends and worn-out pages

I crush it

I crunch it

I scrunch it

like it is bad luck waiting to be slaughtered.

I strangle it to satisfy my bloodlust.

Now, I don’t have a book of my life

but I am the author

and I can always write another book.


This blog page serves as a platform for the Editorial department of The Hindu Education Plus Club at VIT Vellore. We provide opportunities to budding authors across campus to hone their writing skills. We publish blogs four times a week, where writers can communicate their views on any topic of their choice with our readers.

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