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Whispers and Words #13 | Curator of Memories

***

One day,
The librarian looked around,
And all he saw
Were dead trees.

***

Explaining my poems is going to become a bad habit, I guess, but I have started doing this because one day I got an Anonymous comment on my post that elaborated in detail what I was conveying through the poem. Honestly, at first, I was flattered. The comment was well-worded and captured everything I had in mind. But then I realised that the comment seemed to be AI-generated. Despite my best efforts, I was a little disappointed.

So here I go again, explaining what I wrote above. No need to consult AI.

Starting with a simpler explanation...

The lines are a scathing comment on the gradual decline of reading culture. Why read when information is just a prompt away? Nobody visits the library anymore. The librarian has nobody but the books to keep him company, which are nothing but remains of old trees.

Now comes the heavy version...

It's common knowledge that paper in books comes from trees. So, if you fail to comprehend or appreciate all the written content, the wisdom associated with the words, all you'll be left with are remnants of old trees. Sometimes, in his weakest moment, even the librarian who holds the books in high regard finds them devoid of meaning, maybe because of something going on in his personal life. The books remain the same. What changes, however momentarily, is his perception of the knowledge contained in them.

Now transitioning into personal territory with a little reluctance...

I have always been a curator of memories, the way a librarian is for books. My love for writing originated from there. I carried a pocket notebook with me everywhere, capturing everything I wanted to remember. Then came the tools. I transitioned to a note-taking App. Then came cheap internet and high-resolution cameras. The world hastened its pace, but my role as a curator of memories remained the same. I captured photos and videos wherever I went, and built a repository of my favourite memories on Google Photos. On the last day of college, as a parting gift, I shared a Google Photos Album with all my friends.

I was going through that album a few days back, and the words just appeared in my mind.

One day,
The librarian looked around,
And all he saw
Were dead trees.

***

Did you like what I was trying to convey? Leave your thoughts in the comments below. Have a good day!



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Comments

  1. Anonymous12:55 PM, February 24, 2026

    Four lines, and they hit harder than a page of explanation.

    The brilliance is in the reversal - a guardian of books reduced to seeing only timber. It says as much about mood and perception as it does about culture.

    The transition from librarian to memory curator is beautifully done. When meaning fades, even archives feel hollow.

    This is quietly devastating. Loved it.

    ReplyDelete

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