For all the ills of India, I am glad it has given this city a big library. I love the library. I am a library member. I even remember my library card number - 19527. But this love is not blind. I can see the library is not heaven, at least when you want to photocopy something.
Here is a short guide to photocopying in the Musafir Memorial Central State Library:
Write an application on a piece of blank white paper with a blue ballpoint pen and get it signed from the chief librarian, who looks down on you because she does not comprehend why someone will waste their time in a library.
You are awarded the owner of being looked down only if the short lean person sitting on a wooden bench just beside the door of the chief librarian's office lets you in.
Then you have to bring that signed piece of paper to a junior librarian who tells you to call the person who operates an old photocopy machine.
You call him. He comes with you, chats with the junior librarian, examines the application before returning to the machine and start photocopying.
After he has photocopied, he sends you to another room to collect photocopied papers because he is not allowed to hand them over to you.
You go to that other room to find four-five employees chatting over tea on rickety chairs. One of them nods you to wait. You wait for a few minutes. One of them finally stands up from his or her chair and makes your a receipt.
Process over! You are a free man now!