There is a place in London where tourists are seen reading books that are not necessarily tourist guides. The books they read are not windows to another subject of study. Rather, books in their own right take centre stage. The written word becomes the focus. The world of publication opens the pages of its history and shares its ancient secrets. The streams of ancient thoughts captured for posterity flow undiminished in vigour and meaning. The evolution of scripts across languages and continents becomes a fascination. Here they talk about the invention of the comma and the full-stop. Here we see the papyrus, the palmyra and the paper.
Such a place is the British Library, home to a great collection of books, manuscripts, maps and stamps. The collection spans a wide spectrum of subjects from all corners of the globe. In a world of today where printing and publishing is mechanised and less of an art, where books are churned out in great numbers in more or less same style, the books displayed here at the exhibition bear the stamp of individuality, dedication and devotion. Each of the illuminated manuscripts stands out, not old but fresh and new. Shall we admire the scribe’s steady hand or the artist’s unrivalled execution? Shall we admire the austere simplicity of some (Codex Sinaiticus) or the elaborate decoration of others (Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an)? Such creative perfection often echoes a divine touch, a deep-seated devotion of the scribe or the artist and their patrons. It is not surprising that most of these timeless masterpieces are on or about religion, be it the Bible, the Quran, the Gita or the Buddhist sutras. Martyrs have been made in the process and the immolation of William Tyndale in 1536 is an example. Tyndale translated the Bible to English at a time when Roman Christianity has fallen out with the English monarchy. Likewise, when printing started, the Gutenberg Bible of the 15th century was one of the first books to be published. Closer to our age are the manuscripts or first publications of Newton, William Harvey, Galileo, Da Vinci, Lewis Caroll, Handel, Mozart, John Lennon… in short, something to excite everyone. One of the four original drafts of Magna Carta seen at Salisbury many weeks ago can also be seen here. It appears that the Salisbury draft is more beautiful. Or is this only because I saw it first?
There is something to be said about Indian texts and manuscripts which are not adequately represented at the exhibition. Perhaps, this is a good thing. Except for some important works such as the Babur-nama, a Persian illuminated manuscript of 1590 made for Emperor Akbar, there is nothing of the great ancient works that form the foundation of Indian civilisation. Either one has to be thankful that they are still in their country of origin or regret that they are lost forever. The more possible truth is that transmission of knowledge in India has been mainly an oral tradition. The assimilation of such knowledge has been based on pure faith and little controversy. The student neither questions the guru’s authority or his words thus transmitted. The benefit is that diverse interpretations are impossible. The purity and exactness are preserved. The loss is that such knowledge is not widespread. It is confined to the Brahmin priests. The larger mass remains ignorant. If memories fail, the text gets corrupted or lost forever. Only in recent times have we seen a sizeable body of published work, this naturally leading to personal interpretations of various natures and the schools of thoughts that develop from them.
In the evening I strolled at Green Park and St James’ Park. If one were to overhear the conversations in the parks one would hear French, Spanish, German, Hindi, Tamil – anything but English! Such is the attraction of London in spring and summer. The view of Whitehall across the winding lake framed by thickness of shade, vegetation and colourful blossoms is unexpected and pleasing to the eye. The avenues lined with shady trees spreading their branches wide evoke the forethought of our forefathers. What trees shall we plant for our children?
