The wilderness library
At 73, P.V. Chinnathambi runs one of the
loneliest libraries in the forested wilderness of Kerala’s Idukki district. Its
160-books - all classics - are regularly borrowed, read, and returned by poor,
Muthavan Adivasis A library? Here in the
forests and wilderness of Idukki district? This is a low literacy spot in
Kerala, India’s most literate state. There are just 25 families in this hamlet
of the state’s first elected tribal village council. Anyone else wanting to
borrow a book from here would have to trek a long way through dense forest. Would
they, really?
“Well, yes,” says P.V.
Chinnathambi, 73, tea vendor, sports club organiser and librarian. “They do.”
His little shop - selling tea, ‘mixture', biscuits, matches and other
provisions - sits at the hilly crossroads of Edamalakudi. This is Kerala’s
remotest panchayat, where just one Adivasi group, the Muthavans, resides.
Getting there had meant an 18-kilometre walk from Pettimudi near Munnar.
Reaching Chinnathambi’s tea-shop library meant even more walking. His wife is
away on work when we stumble across his home. They too, are Muthavans.
“Chinnathambi,” I ask,
puzzled. “I’ve had the tea. I see the provisions. Where the heck is your
library?” He flashes his striking smile and takes us inside the small
structure. From a darkened corner, he retrieves two large jute
bags - the kind that can carry 25 kilos of rice or more. In the bags
are 160 books, his full inventory. These he lays out carefully on a mat, as he
does every day during the library’s working hours. Our band of eight
wanderers browse the books in awe. Every one of them is a piece of literature,
a classic, even the political works. No thrillers, bestsellers or chick lit.
There is a Malayalam translation of the Tamil epic poem Silappathikaram.
There are books by Vaikom Muhammad Basheer, M.T. Vasudevan Nair, Kamala Das.
Also titles by M. Mukundan, Lalithambika Antharjanam and others. Alongside
tracts of Mahatma Gandhi are famous radical polemics like Thoppil Basi’s You
made me a Communist.
“But Chinnathambi, do
people here really read such stuff?” we ask, now seated outside. The Muthavans,
like most Adivasi groups, suffer greater deprivation and worse education
drop-out rates than other Indians. In reply, he fishes out his library
register. This is an impeccably kept record of books borrowed and returned.
There may be only 25 families in this hamlet, but there were 37 books borrowed
in 2013. That’s close to a fourth of the total stock of 160 – a decent lending
ratio. The library has a one-time membership fee of Rs. 25 and a monthly charge
of Rs.2. There is no separate payment for the book you borrow. The tea is free.
Black and without sugar. “People come in tired from the hills.” Only the
biscuits, ‘mixture’ and other items have to be paid for. Sometimes, a visitor
might get a free, if spartan meal, free... read more:
