A message tucked away in a book

They are setting up a library in the table tennis room of the housing society, where I’ve newly shifted. It is my sanctuary of peace that keeps me sane during this period of lockdown. I wander through the pages written by various writers and tele-transport myself to places and circumstances inked by them. The books are donated by the inmates of the place. They belong to a medley group of genres- classics, mythology, thrillers and what have you. Some books lie strewn on the floor yearning for attention, some rest lazily on a table nearby and the majority of them slouch sloppily on the shelves. Nobody comes here hence it’s a safe place to be in when ones gated community has been declared as a containment zone.

As I browse through the books, my hands get lined with a thin layer of dust. A book called “Vincent Van Gogh” by Isabel Kuhl, grabs my attention. The Dutch painter has always perturbed, amazed and bewildered me with his art and his letters to his brother Theo.

Bright pictures accompanied by quotes from Van Gogh’s letters to his brother induce me to immerse myself deeper into the book. As I turn a page, I find a note tucked away within it. Is it a secret map or a missive? My palms turn clammy as I unfold the note, hands shaking with curiosity and excitement. Painted on the upper half of a handcrafted sheet is a pair of workman’s boots. I recognised the worn-out shoes as a mini-replica of Van Gogh’s painting-A Pair of Shoes, painted in 1886. It is said that, Vincent bought these workman’s boots at a flea market, intending to use them as props. Finding them still a little too proper, he wore them on a long and rainy walk. Only then were they fit to be painted.

Below the recreation of ‘A Pair of the Shoes’ was written a message in a beautiful, cursive hand, in black ink:

“Whenever you feel down and out, think of the labourers or the daily wage earners who migrated under miserable conditions back home, during the pandemic. Place yourself in their shoes and march on as you count your blessings.

Another pro-tip: when you’re immersed in the blues, just buy yourself a pair of shoes; you could dance in them, or paint them or just ‘wfh’ in them!”

It was a note, probably for the reader of the book from the previous owner. I was intrigued about who could have reproduced that painting so beautifully well in that small space, using water colours and then there was that note. An artist? Male or female? Under what circumstances was the note inserted into the book? I was shaken from my reverie by the guard, as he wanted to lock up the library. Hence, I decided to borrow the book and ponder over the interesting message, at home.

A couple of days later, as I read the newspaper, gloom and doom seemed to shroud my being with a blanket of despondency. I remembered the mysterious note and decided to buy myself a pair of red trainers, online. The transaction done; I felt a strange sense of peace within. My body and mind needed to work out, step on the treadmill and avoid all negativity. Next, I found a verified donation camp to look after the Covid-stricken daily wage earners (who have lost their jobs) and their families, on Twitter, I immediately donated whatever I could, towards their welfare.

It is almost time to return the book, I have put back the note within it, the message belongs to its soul, to be conveyed to its readers. As an afterthought I open the page that displays the effulgent ‘Sunflowers’, painted by Van Gogh. With a doodling pen in hand, I scribble a message on a Post-it, for somebody who might want to read this wonderful book:

‘The world will heal, for sure it will; till then don your happiness and optimism like a badge, just like these lovely sunflowers.’

I return the book, placing it carefully on the shelf, hopeful that the messages will provide solace to somebody else, somewhere.

Navanita Varadpande is a writer based in Gurugram, India. Twitter: @VpNavanita