SCENES FROM THE INDIAN ACADEMIA: III

Pompeii

The Library Committee meeting is on. Fifteen teachers, the Principal, the Librarian and the Assistant Librarian are sitting around four small tables hastily joined together and concealed beneath one double-bed sheet. The male teachers in this committee are reluctant members. Actually, they are the leftovers. The more influential ones have got themselves on the Sports Committee. Not that sports is a consuming interest. But the sports committee is known to provide a sumptuous lunch after the meeting. And that, of course, is of consuming interest. The members of the library committee have to do with a few measly samosas. The interest they show is then, naturally, commensurate with the niggardly fare they are getting.
The meeting is brought to order and copies of last year’s minutes are distributed around the table. The members glance at them casually and then put the sheets down.
“Shall we take the minutes as read?” asks the Principal.
Everyone nods assent.
“Then someone should propose them and another one should second,” advises the Principal.
This is promptly done.
“Any other business?” the Principal again.
There are a few voices now. The old teacher from political science argues about subscribing to one more health magazine. It is very good, he emphasizes. Other teachers suppress smiles; everyone knows that the gentleman is growing old and is besotted with quite a few health problems. More health magazines mean an increased chance of finding home-remedies to his health problems.
Then someone says, “What about the dust? Something should be done about the dust.”
Everyone looks at the woman who has said this. She is young and obviously has just been appointed.
“Yes. What about the dust Ms. Joseph?” encourages the Principal.
“There is so much dust on the books. Layers upon layers of it. Every time I pick up a volume, I get a bout of sneezing not to mention spoiling my clothes. Something must be done about it.”
There is a general agreement on this issue. The teacher of microbiology reminds that germs use dust as vehicles. Concern is voiced about the health of the teaching staff. Questions are asked. Is the library not cleaned periodically? Are the books not dusted regularly? How does the dust get in? Are the windows not kept closed? Does the library own a vacuum cleaner?
The librarian has the answers. The library indeed gets cleaned every now and then. The books are not dusted because some lecturers had voiced fear a decade or so ago about the possible damage to the books if they were to be dusted by people who didn’t love books. The windows are always closed and no, no pane is missing. And no again, the library does not have a vacuum cleaner. And yes, as to how the dust gets in, the dust is very fine and such dust can enter even if the windows have been nailed permanently.
What he forgets to mention is the fact that layers upon layers of fine dust can get deposited only when the books have not been disturbed for months/years on end. The history teacher should know. Pompeii, with everyone dead, with no one left to care, got shrouded under successive layers of dust. The botany, zoology, geology, teachers should know. An organism dead at a place where no one disturbs the body will become fossilized under layers and layers of fine dust.