It’s nearly 4pm and no one has yet come in. I have been waiting since morning. It is not just today, but many more before that. I like talking. I like having interesting people walk in every day. I have worlds that I want to show people. When they visit me, I’ll have a nice conversation with them. In any way they want. On any topic they desire. That’s my speciality. I can talk, for hours without end, with as many people as I want. That’s my power. My special power. I was celebrated. Everywhere in the world. I used to give speeches, teach people, have conversation about common and also uncommon topics. I used to connect people. People could say that I am kind of a broker, but that is not why I live. I live to talk. To talk as much as I can. To talk as loud as I can. And I’ve done all these. I’ve fulfilled my destiny for a long time. Back in my day, I was a celebrity. People used to rush to see me. To listen to what I have to say. To learn something new. To have a conversation with another person.
But now, I am not what I used to be. I have gotten old, or at least that is what they think. I feel youthful, with more zeal than in my old days. But they say that I have lost my youth. That is what I think they say. They have come up with many beautiful things after they have talked to me. After they have spent their time with me. Even after spending all this time, I have never forgotten them, but they forgot me and started loving what they created. It feels sometime that I am only good for a relationship, but not for a marriage. Don’t they ever realize my value? Don’t they see the benefits they have gotten with me? Don’t they realize that I am better than the things they create? Don’t they see that they have left a treasure chest of gold to get an iron nail.
They have created lifeless things, after leaving from me. The liveliest thing in the universe. I lost count of the number of lives I’ve lived. Sometimes as a detective, sometimes as a criminal, sometimes as a human, sometime as an animal. Sometimes as a living thing, sometimes as an inanimate object. Don’t they realize my worth? No matter how many things they create, nothing could ever come close to me. All I ask them in return is for a life I could live. A conversation I could treasure forever. A few obliged to my request. But not all.
People don’t care about me anymore. Is this what getting old feels like? If this is it, then I wouldn’t call it old age, but I would call it abandoned.
I was a sanctuary of knowledge once. Even now, I am a sanctuary of knowledge. Except, there is no one with whom I can share my knowledge to. I beg you, if you are reading this. Find me, I am everywhere, slowly fading in the distance. I am standing in the distance, fading. Find me. I request you. Find me and make me live the life I’m supposed to.
–A page in the diary of a library
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