every one were on high-spirits ,the expected gaiety they'll feel during near semester breaks. in every corners you could see students, under the Santol tree beside the library were group of students practicing their lines for their plays which, on some subjects like english and literature, are considered as final exams. some were filled with enthusiast and others with exhaustion as they swayed their bodies, swung their hands, moved their feet and delivered the lines by heart or by nose. others i saw brooding over reading materials on some silent nooks like the nipa hut and the benches in front of it and trying to concentrate or i say indulge themselves to what they are reading. there are also students, the confident ones, talking like they can't here each other even in a close range for they're shouting, for emphasis perhaps or just showing off how happy they are that semester break is fast approaching and that they're happy to have just passed there subjects, caring less on perfection, stranded and contended in low mediocrity. students in laptops searching on everything or just opening there face-book accounts checking out updates, delighted for a few notifications and occasional friend requests. students making there projects and thesis for the last submission. almost everyone are restless and too occupied to what they are engaged with.
while here was i, in my highly observant mood, walking the path heading to the library, as always, to the library. walking slow so that i could take notice of the activities livening the academe.
I'm standing on the threshold, swung open the glass door, stepped my foot forward, walked confidently towards the i.d validation machine. where i placed my i.d on the red light and let it be censored, afterward, a beep signaled indicating that my i.d was validated and i may use the library. i navigated my eyes through the expectantly crowded bodies of students sitting on every table trying to find and recognize some vaguely familiar faces. every table consisted of not less than five people. some chatting and discussing in unmodulated voices that's too loud inapt for the place. some were seriously doing paper works. there was no vacant sit available. but though every table was occupied i would less likely do my business in the second floor. there is too much light streaming in, big and too bright fluorescent lamps, too many (noisy)students, uncomfortable sit, less private. it's a too public place.
the students were murmuring loud and were nonchalant to the place's rules and regulations that the librarian, stood up, get the bell from the table, placed it in the upper deck and rung it loud enough so that everyone will notice there commotion. consequently, the students lowered their voices down and the place was back to its original and appropriate silence.
after the feat, i hurried upstairs and walked straight to my favorite place in the library, the area where they place the books on high shelves. this is the segregated area. it's not air-conditioned so if you'll enter the place you'll be consumed by the heat, dust and the absence of air. but i care less about that. so i proceeded to the room anyway.
i swung open the half glass door and the heat, dust, absent air, books and shelves greeted me with there welcoming look. i stood and paused in a short while, to feel them. turning left, i started walking my way to the area. it's just in the extreme left wing facing the room. ones you go there, you will find a small round table with two sits facing each other just beside the large window. outside the large window stood an old proud Narra tree spreading its leaves and branches so that only a few delicate light could stream in, swaying it's leaves in the thick and cold wind. waltzing in the hush sounds the wind and its branches and leaves are making. few leaves cascading slowly from the tree to ground where it'll be swept by the janitor or kicked and stepped on by some shoes. birds are happily cooing at each other, hopping hither and tither on each branches, occasionally tangled on some bunch of leaves. flying away and back, chirping there melodies and conducting an orchestra with the wind and the Narra tree.
just beside the effervescent tree is an old building, maybe the same old as the tree. you could see visible signs of antiquity in the tarnished gutters where some strange weeds are dangling loose in the gutters curves, clay shingles grayed and withered and cracked by weather and time, unpainted walls were some visible cracks penciled its dirty white surface like lines in maps. there are also weeds sprawled from the ground to the walls decorating it, that weeds together with the lines of cracks made grotesque shapes when you look at it from a distance. though the building is covered with visible evidence of old age, it stood proud and noble and dignified. that it is ought to be respected by the other younger buildings and students and teachers who used and are using the accommodations and comfort that he offered and can still offer through generations.
i watch and look at the details of everything around me. the round table, the books, the shelves, the books in the shelves, the chair where i sat, the dusty tiles, the gloomy place lighted by the soft rays from the outside, the strong wind and submissive tree and the old building. all was observed with keen and delightful almost obsessive interest. i tired and indulged myself to the pleasures of the sight that i almost forgot why i was here. then a yawn escaped from my mouth and the was question was answered. i slept.
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