By Arun Kumar Singhal
Though the focus of this piece is “The Little Library”, I personally believe that no library—however small—is ever truly little, for it holds the vastness of knowledge. Even a single word from the thinnest booklet can transform a life, shift a perspective, or ignite a new way of thinking. In that sense, the Little Library is not so little after all—it represents a small, humble initiative with a big impact.
In the fast-paced age of AI, digital tools, and increasing screen time, the simple act of flipping through the pages of a physical book is declining for many reasons. Libraries filled with tangible books now face the challenge of staying relevant in a world driven by instant access and virtual content. The charm of the printed word, the scent of aged paper, and the quiet corners of libraries are slowly fading from everyday life. Though all is not lost, much has already been.
Those who still choose to turn pages by hand are the true custodians of books. They preserve not only the content but also the culture, the ritual, and the joy of reading in its most authentic form. While there is no harm in embracing digital formats—which offer accessibility and convenience—we must not let physical libraries become relics of the past.
The future should not be a choice between digital and print, but a balance. Digital tools can enhance learning, but physical books offer depth, connection, and a unique sensory experience that screens cannot replicate. By continuing to support libraries and cultivating a love for printed books, we ensure that knowledge remains rooted not just in data, but in experience and emotion.
And so, the reason for narrating all this is to set the stage for the subject of this piece — “The Little Library”, which, as I observed, sits quietly tucked away, almost as if it were shy.
The Dehradun General Post Office (GPO) continues to uphold its enduring legacy of nurturing a love for reading and books, while also championing the revival of the long-forgotten art of letter writing. These dual efforts are commendable in an age where digital interactions dominate daily life. A few months ago, the Department of Posts attempted to rekindle public interest in letter writing by showcasing a traditional letterbox during the Vasant Utsav (Spring Festival) at the Governor’s House in Dehradun. While the initiative may not have captured the attention of many young visitors, it remains a significant and imaginative step toward encouraging people—especially the youth—to disconnect from screens and reconnect with the simple, thoughtful act of writing.
The post office’s connection to books and learning is not new. It is deeply rooted in Dehradun’s history and beautifully exemplified by the Mahatma Khushi Ram Public Library. Located near the Dehradun GPO, this library was established on 4 October 1921, by Mahatma Khushi Ram, a retired postmaster, philanthropist, and visionary. With selfless dedication to education, it is said, he donated his life’s savings, pension, and a remarkable personal collection of books and scriptures to create what would become a true “Temple of Learning” for generations of readers, students, and scholars.
In 2020, the library’s centennial was celebrated nationally, with India Post releasing a special first-day cover featuring the library’s building—an acknowledgment of its literary and cultural importance in the city’s heart.
Continuing this literary spirit, the Dehradun GPO has recently taken a modest yet meaningful step by setting up a small in-house library for its staff—the Little Library I am referring to. In a quiet corner behind the service counters at the GPO, a few almirahs—filled with books either purchased by the department or may have been donated by literature-loving members of the postal fraternity—stand discreetly. This initiative, though unpublicised, reflects a thoughtful effort to foster reading habits among employees and to keep the culture of books alive.
I observed this during one of my recent visits to the GPO near Clock Tower in Dehradun, where I prefer posting letters by hand—a small personal effort to keep letter writing alive in the digital age. While standing at the service window, I noticed a few almirahs filled with books behind a glass pane. The almirahs were marked with a flag labelled “Library”. Curious, I asked the clerk at the window if it was indeed a library. She smiled hesitantly, as if unsure whether it was a worthwhile effort, and said ‘yes’.
When I followed up by asking whether employees actually read those books, her smile turned faintly ironic as she replied, “I don’t know”—perhaps reflecting that she herself had never approached those almirahs, though someone must have, for the initiative to still be alive.
While her response was a little disheartening, it didn’t diminish the vision behind this quiet initiative. The real point here is not whether everyone uses the facility, but rather the intent and effort of those who created it. Even if only a few take advantage of such spaces, the value lies in the opportunity they present and the thoughtfulness behind them. These are the kinds of gestures that preserve and nurture the spirit of reading, reflection, and learning.
What struck me most was the humility with which the initiative had been implemented—without announcements, press coverage, or inauguration ceremonies. It was set up quietly, not as a token gesture, but as a genuine attempt to make a difference in the lives of those who serve behind the counters and letterboxes. That such thoughtfulness still exists in public institutions—and more importantly, is acted upon—is a heartening reminder that meaningful change often begins in small, unnoticed corners.
I did not let this discovery remain a fleeting, window-side observation. Compelled to know more, I approached the Senior Postmaster of the Dehradun GPO, who, to my surprise, acknowledged the presence of the library but did not seem particularly enthusiastic about it. Though he welcomed me with a warm smile, his response about the initiative left me somewhat discouraged. A pity.
A thought arises — the postal department needs to identify and recognise the individuals behind this thoughtful initiative to encourage broader participation in such meaningful efforts. It must also ensure that this doesn’t remain merely a ‘good initiative,’ but becomes one that is actively promoted among the staff, so they value it and don’t respond with indifference. Only then can the Little Library grow, rather than quietly fade away over time as a well-intentioned idea with no takers. Perhaps it’s time this noble effort is taken to the next level. Needless to say, it is a model that can be replicated across departments and organisations where library culture and reading habits are yet to take root.
(Arun Kumar Singhal is an economist, author, and writer who is also actively involved in social service and environmental pursuits, all while keeping away from the limelight. He has been a resident of Dehradun for nearly five decades.)
