A Story from an Indian School Library
There was one book in our school library that always sat beside the window.
Its cover was blue, its corners were bent, and its title had almost faded away. It did not have a colourful illustration or a shiny new cover like the books displayed at the entrance.
Perhaps that was why nobody picked it up.
Every Friday, our class had library period.
The moment the bell rang, everyone rushed towards their favourite shelves. Some searched for mystery stories, some for comics, some for books about cricket, space or famous people.
I usually did the same.
But every week, I noticed the blue book sitting quietly beside the window.
One Friday, heavy rain had kept us inside all afternoon. By the time I reached the library, every book I wanted had already been borrowed.
With nothing else to choose, I picked up the blue book.
The story was about a boy who lived in a small village in the Himalayas. His school had only a few classrooms, electricity was unreliable, and the nearest large town was hours away.
But every night, he climbed onto the roof of his house and looked at the stars.
He wanted to become a scientist.
He did not own a telescope, so he built simple models from cardboard, old lenses and anything else he could find. He filled notebooks with questions about planets, light and space.
I kept reading.
When the library bell rang, I had not finished the story.
“You can take it home,” the librarian said.
That evening, I read until the final page.
Something about the boy’s curiosity stayed with me.
On Monday morning, I walked into science class with a question I had never thought of asking before.
“Ma’am, how does a telescope actually make something so far away look close?”
My teacher smiled.
Instead of giving me a quick answer, she drew a diagram on the board.
That answer led to another question.
Then another.
A few weeks later, I borrowed a book about the solar system.
Then one about India’s space programme.
Soon, names like Vikram Sarabhai, Kalpana Chawla and ISRO began appearing in my reading list.
Months later, when our school announced its science exhibition, I knew exactly what I wanted my project to be about.
Space.
I did not win first prize.
I did not suddenly decide that I would definitely become a scientist.
But something had changed.
One forgotten book had introduced me to a subject I had never seriously explored before.
The following Friday, I returned the blue book to the library.
At first, I placed it back beside the window.
Then I stopped.
I picked it up again and moved it to the front display shelf where the newer books were kept.
My friend looked at me.
“Is it good?”
I smiled.
“Just try it.”
Sometimes the most important book you read is not the one everyone recommends.
Sometimes it is the quiet one waiting on the wrong shelf, ready to open a door you did not even know was there.
