The other morning as I scanned on the internet for the usual five or six newspapers every morning, a very interesting story in India’s ‘Economic Times’ screamed out. It had researched the reasons Kerala has the highest literacy rate at 96.2 per cent.

The leading reason was that ‘Ana Libraries’ exist in almost every ‘mohallah’ and village, and because people have a deeply entrenched reading habit. It brought back to my mind the almost extinct Ana Libraries of Lahore’s old walled city. My doctoral interest in ‘research methodology in less-developed economies’ kicked in. I immediately rang up an Indian friend from Kerala who I got to know in Cambridge. She is an ancient Sanskrit epics expert.

Her first reaction was to laugh and inform me that ‘ana libraries’ exist in almost every street. It is an essential part of Kerala life, where even old women regularly borrow magazines and books to read. Gosh, that reminded me of my amazing grandmother.

But then this brought me to the classic research on education in Punjab as it evolved during the Sikh era. The 1883 report is titled: ‘History of indigenous education in the Punjab since annexation till 1882’. Researched and written by the great Dr. Gottlieb Leitner (1840-1899), it states that in Lahore alone almost every youngster went to different types of schools that existed in almost every street. He mentions the ‘Paisa Libraries’ as the cornerstone of learning. His estimate was that 64pc of Lahore was literate. Prof Leitner founded the Government College, Lahore, the Punjab University and Lahore’s Oriental College. He was the one who pointed out the existence of the ‘Punjabi Qaida’ in every home, ones that the colonial forces collected and burnt.

Just for comic relief our dear Rana Sanaullah opposed a resolution moved in the Punjab Assembly to change the name of Katchery Road to Leitner Road. The ‘learned’ Rana saw a conspiracy in it. The next day this newspaper carried a detailed story about Leitner building the very first mosque in Europe in Woking, England. His other books include ‘Translation of the Holy Quran’, ‘Turkey’s contribution to Muhammadian Education’, ‘Basics of Arabic Grammar’ and, mostly amusingly, a ‘Detailed Analysis of terms used by criminal tribes of the Punjab’. One hopes that did not upset Rana Sahib.

So the once ‘Paisa Library’ then became the ‘Ana Library’ (inflation one presumes) that existed in almost every ‘mohallah’ and ‘gali’ of the walled city. Here I will turn to the great Punjabi poet Ustad Daman whom almost every ruling leader persecuted. Like other honest poets, scholars and radical students, the Lahore Police jailed him based on the “discovery” of a gun and bombs from under his sofa. In 1947 Muslim League zealots burned down his tailoring shop and house in Baghbanpura, burning alive his wife and daughter. He moved to the walled city and started working in an ‘Ana Library’ in Taxali. He described those days as the happiest of his life.

But then to get a fuller picture I contacted my very close friend ‘Sheero’ alias Ghazanfar, who spent most of his life inside Bhati Gate. He described how his grandmother would sometimes use difficult English expressions, which surprised him. Where did you learn that? “Oh, I read books from the Ana Library” she would respond. He then went on to reel off the numerous book and magazine libraries in his ‘mohallah’. This was true of every ‘mohallah’ with the largest being the famous Taxali one where Ustad Daman had worked.

As he would walk towards Taxali there was the ‘ana library’ of Ikram Sahib, whose shop was named Ghalib Library. He would invariably be reading a magazine that was the rage in those days. These days the old man sells milkshakes. Among the magazines that were the rage were those carrying the writings of Ibn Safi or Razia Butt or even Krishen Chandar. The front would have a poem. Outside the Nigar Cinema were shops selling small four-pagers with the entire film plot of the latest releases.

What are the historic roots of these small local libraries? Why have they disappeared? Has our present pathetic illiterate state got some relationship to their decline and disappearance? These are questions that need deep exploration, but in this piece let me dwell on the basics.

The very first mention of a library of sorts appears as the Mughal period was closing. It was an uncertain time and people sought information. In the outer court of the Mosque of Wazir Khan are a number of shops, where calligraphers, book binders and even paper-makers worked. To the southern side are two shops, now closed, where a library of sorts existed. As the books were leather-bound and very expensive, interested people could read them sitting in one of the rooms. Mind you the leather-bound Lahore classics are rare collector’s item, with each fetching as much as a million dollars. I actually handled one when visiting Berkeley Library, who considered it among their finest collection.

What did a typical ‘ana library’ look like? It could be anything from a small one-room shop selling sweets and basic household goods to a larger store. To one side were shelves stacked with popular publications, especially with housewives. The shop owners would invariably be reading an Ibn Safi piece or Razia Butt novel. Some even secretly enjoyed the short novels by Wahi Wahanvi. Many considered them as near to pornography as was allowed in those days. Today they would be classified as ‘uneventful’.

Why did these ‘ana libraries’ disappear. Many blame the coming of the video age as responsible. Others feel that as a ‘dog-eat-dog’ culture embedded itself with industrialisation people stopped reading. In fact many today feel that anyone reading too much is a ‘lost soul’. Such has our pious culture become. But this is not what ultimately evolved in the highly industrialised countries.

If you happen to board a train or a bus in Europe, or England, you will see that almost everyone is reading a book or magazine. Mind you they are exposed more to TV and radio than us. The same is the case in Kerala, which unlike the rest of India is less influenced by extreme belief systems.

The availability of adequate reading materials is directly connected to the literacy levels that prevail in different parts of the world. The demise of Lahore’s amazing ‘ana libraries’ seems to have a direct bearing on our literacy levels, which seem to plummet by the day. It is common knowledge that with TV talk shows becoming unbearably boring, perhaps it is time that we made available to people, especially our housewives, magazines and books to read and then educate their off-springs.

One aspect of this problem is that a lot of people have excellent libraries at home, which when they pass away is sold as ‘raddi’. If you are a regular visitor to the old books shops on the Anarkali-Mall crossing on a Sunday, the booksellers will tell you so. It would not be a bad idea if conscientious citizens with a good book collection donate them to a library in their lifetime. Let the good deeds start.

Published in Dawn, December 20th, 2020