Ode to Batighar

While I like taking a stroll in the countryside, following a viny old dirt road made by humans or other animals, or the quiet walk by the beach as much as the next person, I also have another type of human-made place in mind that acts as my sanctuary. Yes, libraries!

And this particular one has a coffee corner to it, decorated like it's a reception table of a hotel from the 60s. However, they serve freshly brewed coffee. Perhaps the only library in the entire country that offers this service in-house, while other commercial franchise libraries have separate food corners. Yeah, this isn’t a public library, but they let you sit there and read as much as you want without buying any books at all. Some people do come in here to spend some time browsing books, some come to read, some are both buyers and readers and couples come to do ‘couple things’ I guess?!

I myself enjoy the ambiance. Being among thousands upon thousands of books all around me. As you can see from my cup and the horrible latte art, or the lack thereof, the ‘barista’ there isn’t really a professional one, just some guy doing his job—but the coffee ain’t all that bad, I’d rate it 5/10. There’s sort of like a burnt flavor to it, and not the good kind. I can almost taste the smoke, it feels like, and there’s hardly any smoothness. With this mediocre coffee, I stay prowling in that library for hours when I'm there for a visit.

This library is called “batighar”, which literally translates to “The house of light”. They are also a publishing house. Yesterday was the 19th birthday of this company and each year, usually, they throw mini parties to celebrate, books go on sale, and people come, eat, and take part in mini-cultural programs.

Their balcony and the stools there are my favorite place to sit. Populated with lots of houseplants, it is the most cliche Instagram-worthy place ever lol, but you know what, it is peaceful, and invokes a reading mood, which I can appreciate.

The place is huge for a bookshop (the largest commercial library in the country), and their decorations follow Mughal architecture. They have books from every possible genre and type. However, the two major languages are English or Bangla. Was looking for some french books but no luck.

These are the two shelves/aisles where I mostly buy books from—literary classics and politics. So many books to buy, read, too little time!

I was reading some poetry with my coffee by Kazi Nazrul Islam, the national poet, and also the most complex prose stylist of Bengali literature. But this particular poem, or more accurately, lyrical ballad isn’t complex at all. It goes like this—I will sing, to drown my sorrows, to fade the rage I have for you, to puncture my soul with needles. I will sing, to forget your negligence. The flower you plucked unaware, I will thread a garland with them, and when your friend comes, I will bestow it upon them.

I know it sounds like a sob story, but the lyrical poem reads really great in my language.

Then I picked up some Poe, and the poem that struck me was rung in a similar pathos—where Poe pours his heart for a long-gone companion.