Tas Ink & Co

The quietest workplace was surprisingly loud,

Not because of the conversation, but because of the myriad voices behind every shelf. I spent seven years working in a library, observing people carrying unseen burdens as they searched for textbooks, novels, biographies, or poems. I often wondered if they sought something more beyond mere acquisition.

It’s said we read to escape reality,

But that isn’t true.

If reading were purely escapism, we’d close the book the moment we finish. Instead, completing a story often leaves us with added courage, hope, or new perspectives.

Over time, I realised each person borrows a book for different reasons- some seek answers, others comfort, and some need a peaceful refuge.

Books do that.

A novel helps us realise that we’re not the only ones who experience loss. A memoir helps us see that there is hope for recovery. A poem helps us name those feelings which have been troubling us for ages.

And reading doesn’t solve our problems in any way.

It reminds us that someone else has already experienced those feelings and come out of them.

Being a librarian has taught me that books are not just pieces of paper with words on them. It’s communication between different generations. It allows us to experience someone else’s thoughts and feelings for at least a few hours, making us a bit more patient and understanding.

Perhaps this is why libraries have always meant so much to me.

Not because they’re quiet, but because they’re full of voices waiting to be heard.

If the world is asking us to hurry up all the time, books ask us to take a breath.

To listen. To imagine. To feel.

Not to escape from reality.

But to understand it better.