The tale of a ‘booksmith’

Once upon a time, there lived a ‘booksmith’. On the lines of blacksmiths and goldsmiths, a booksmith is a person who forges and makes things out of books. He is a person who spends more time with books than with people. They are the best friends he never asked for. Other people constantly wonder how the booksmith is always comfortable being alone. But he rather likes being in the company of a mind than a person. He finds his bliss in books. He worships writers and the long walk to the library is his pilgrimage. Still upon this time, there lives this booksmith. This is the simple tale of his lifelong romance with books. It could be you, it could be me, it could be anyone, and that is the whole point of being a booksmith.

I was always a curious child; Passionate and inquisitive in a certain manner. I was that weird kid who pesters his dad to get him more books than chocolates. I wouldn’t bother reading School Curriculum but books were my brain fodder. It was Tamil Magazines that first spurred my interest in science. I still can’t forget how I used to cut out the most interesting nuggets and experiments from the magazines and paste them on a note making a magazine of my own. I grew up without Google; hence books were my only source of knowledge. Google is like an elevator. It is faster and easier, agreed. But that doesn’t replace all the staircases in the world. Books are my staircases; they can take me up or trip me down. But they are always there for me, awaiting my journey.

Being curious, I always ask questions: to parents, to teachers and to friends. There was an instance in high school when I was uncomfortable with the idea of ‘pi’ being irrational. The number pi was both infinite and non-repeating. I thought: How could a number go on forever? Who has programmed the decimals that follow 3.141? How is this seemingly mysterious number connected to the fates of any circle of any radius? I asked this question, in a quite persistent way to my teacher who put off my question and also numbed me down by telling I was wasting precious class time. I was forced to give in to the system but I didn’t give up my hope for better prospects. Sometimes later I had the good fortune of learning under Prof.Ravi Sankar who welcomed the spirit of questioning. He quoted Carl Sagan” There are naive questions, tedious questions, ill-phrased questions, questions put after inadequate self-criticism. But every question is a cry to understand the world. There is no such thing as a dumb question”  and suggested us to read his books. I then tried Carl Sagan’s books and heard his voice speaking clearly and directly inside my head.

In his novel Contact, the protagonist Ellie is in a similar situation of getting ridiculed by her teacher for asking a ‘stupid question’. I could relate to the character, empathize with her and learn how she handled such situations. She ended up being an astrophysicist. She might be just a fictional character, but she inspired me that it pays off to be curious and inquisitive. And it did. I never stopped my quest towards knowledge and continued asking questions until I got an answer. And that passion to read, that spirit to always learn more, got me into Research Science Initiative- a summer research program at IIT

                 To me, Science isn’t just a repository of facts and definitions. It is a way of thinking. There is a way to approach science and I learnt it, surprisingly, from reading the Harry Potter books. The following is a paragraph from Harry Potter 6.

"Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost" said Snape. The whole class looked around at Harry, who said, "Er--well — ghosts are transparent". "Oh, very good," interrupted Snape, his lip curling. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent."'

Pansy Parkinson let out a high-pitched giggle. Several other people were smirking. Harry took a deep breath and continued calmly, though his insides were boiling, "Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be solid —" "A five-year-old could have told us as much," sneered Snape. "The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard's spells. It is not alive, it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth, and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, transparent. "

"Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart!" said Ron. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a look to see if its solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

There was a ripple of laughter, instantly quelled by the look Snape gave the class.

What Harry Potter suggested is how one should approach Science. He makes a simple but careful observation on whether the creature in question is transparent or solid, based on a physically well defined parameter and makes a deduction from that observation. It is a decision based on experimental observation and not definition or mere hearsay. To me, that is the essence of scientific method.

I write mostly Tamizh poems. I’ve aced the poetry competitions, recited my poems during Independence and Republic day celebrations in school. Strangers have congratulated me on my choice of simple words in poetry. But writing has never been easy for me. It is a struggle I am willing to take. Sometimes I just sit alone in the night and think of all the anguish in my heart and truly wonder if anyone will ever want to make sense of all that I am. Writing is my way of discovering myself. If you give me an ear, I’ll give you a voice. If you give me your heart, I’ll give you a poem

How has reading books made me, me? Passionate readers can’t resist the temptation to try their hand at writing. They want to weave magic with their writing; to paint a picture with words and to convey thoughts with their expressions. To give back to the world of writing that has given them so much.

                                                                                              

If I had not read Bharathiyaar, Vairamuthu or Gibran’s inspiring works, I could never have put words to paper. If I didn’t read, I could never have written.                                     Great short stories kindle the creativity in me. I read a simple short story by Kalki about two friends who get separated due to the politics concerning a village election. The story sunk in my heart, and stuck in my vision for so long that I wanted to adapt it and look at that world all for myself.

I wrote a script adapted from the short story with the necessary additions and modifications while also acting in the skit which went on to win the university level skit competitions. Writing is a hard climb, but in the end, the view is great. It gives me a satisfaction like no other. Now, if I didn’t read, where would I go looking for inspiration to strike me?

Tamil books connect to me on a more personal level than English books. Ponniyin Selvan and Sivagamiyin Sabatham are literary gems. But such great pieces of literature remain largely unknown to the Tamil Audience. I have taken it as a personal mission to translate at least 5 Nobel Winning English Books to Tamil and popularize the existing Tamizh works. That is a booksmith’s bound duty.

What goes into good writing? What makes good writing great?

I remember from a childhood magazine Chutti Vikatan, of a slim, chudidhar wearing Maya Teacher with a magical flying carpet who can take us to places beyond our wildest imagination. She took us to Jurassic Age showing dinosaurs, took us to junkyards and took us to free space. The writer’s success remains in making the reader yearn to belong to the world the author creates. The writer’s success lies in painting the picture perfect visual in our minds. I still remember Maya Teacher and still crave for her adventures in the magical carpet.

Great literature classifies as art. Art should disturb the comforted and comfort the disturbed.  And art should bring about a transformation.

Everyone remembers ‘The Christmas Carol’. Ebenezer Scrooge is a character that is etched in the permanent memory of all people. His name has now come to mean a nasty, anti-social, mean, miser. Nobody could ever forget how he snapped the idea of celebrating Christmas as “humbug” and how he has the capitalist mentality of not caring for workers and how he shows apathy for the homeless by asking “Are there no workhouses?”. It takes three ghosts in the same night to bring about his miraculous transformation.

On the surface, it may seem like a morality tale modeled on the template of Aesop’s Fables. But the ability of a writer to bring in deeper layers and different levels in his writing is his most supreme achievement. Scrooge stands for the typical capitalist entrepreneur whose obsession with money outweighs the need of community and family values. And people like Scrooge are the exact people who Karl Marx stood against. Marx must have had Scrooge in his mind

when he wrote Das Kapital, and Communist Manifesto while suggesting a social revolution to abolish such meaningless capitalism. That is what a good piece of writing can do: it can create unforgettable characters, it can enable thinkers, and inspire generations. While Marx saw communist revolution as the only solution to the problem, Dickens considers the human aspect, that people are capable of change. The Christmas Carol is a tale of redemption and is proof that the pen is mightier than the sword.    

            Books open up the human mind for possibilities. They prepare the human race for what’s coming. Their imaginations have fueled the drive of scientists, philosophers and thinkers. A simple example would suffice. Alice in Wonderland was written before the advent of  

Quantum mechanics and Relativity. And the newly discovered scientific principles defied common sense. Moving Clocks tick slower; faster objects get lighter; and it was quantum mechanically possible for a particle to be at two places at once. How could scientists accept such logic defying scientific truths? It was Alice who taught them to believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast. And they trusted that the universe is much richer than our everyday experience would have us believe. The scientists came down the rabbit hole to find the wonderland of Relativity and Quantum Physics and accepted the truths even when they didn’t make sense outside the wonderland.

 In a world that is so stressful, so cruel and so boring, books are the sole provider of pity, comfort, happiness and love. Books can work magic. It has the power to transform people’s lives. Books are time-travel devices. I have lived with Raja Raja Chozha, took in the same air as Gandhi, Shook hands with Steve Jobs and even walked amongst fire breathing dragons. If that isn’t magic, I don’t know what else is.

Forever upon this time, there will be a lot of booksmiths. It could be you, it could be me, it could be anyone, and that is the whole point of being a booksmith. While the whole world is busy waging wars, these booksmiths will transcript their tales and make peace with the piece of parchment they read. And they will live happily ever after.