Zinda Kitaab Ghar: Reimagining Libraries
I recently came across Ishfaq Manzoor’s article “Zinda Kitaab Ghar” (Living Library). Ishfaq is from Kulgam, a library futurist and a writer. I wholeheartedly endorse his vision. In his piece, he proposes a radical shift from the traditional, silent-book model to a vibrant, people-powered hub of storytelling, culture, healing, and community connection. This concept resonates deeply, especially in a region marked by both cultural richness and collective trauma.
In the majestic yet tumultuous landscape of Jammu & Kashmir, where centuries-old traditions coexist with modern upheaval, the typical image of a library is all too stagnant: dusty shelves, pale pages, empty rooms. But what if we could breathe new life into these spaces? What if libraries became not just holders of books, but cradle-havens of human stories, emotion, and healing?
That’s precisely what “Zinda Kitaab Ghar” proposes: transforming libraries into living libraries, where individuals, artisans, veterans, farmers, poets, become “books” themselves. Visitors can “borrow” them, listening to first-hand accounts of resilience, loss, creativity, and hope. This human-library model is powerful in itself, but in Kashmir, it holds special significance. Here, where trauma and identity struggles have shaped many lives, storytelling becomes a therapeutic bridge, allowing people, especially youth, to connect, empathize, and heal through shared human experience.
Beyond storytelling, these libraries also serve as cultural guardians. Dedicated corners for local languages, Kashmiri, Dogri, Ladakhi, Gujari, Balti, preserve intangible heritage. Sessions of Dastaan Goyee (oral storytelling), folk music, and language-learning circles ensure that endangered traditions remain vibrant and accessible. In a world where digital screens dominate, such heritage-preserving efforts offer young people an anchor to their collective past, an anchor we sorely need.
The concept also envisions “Library Without Walls”: mobile units that bring the living-library format to remote villages, carrying not just books but people, educators, mental-health facilitators, community storytellers, into underserved areas. These outreach efforts include open-air “read-and-talk” sessions, moral-education drives, and youth dialogues. They nurture civic engagement and critical thinking among youth who might otherwise feel isolated.
An innovative “knowledge barter” ethos lies at the heart of Ishfaq’s vision. Every person, no matter their literacy level or economic status, has something to offer: a grandmother’s lullabies, a carpenter’s traditional craft, a weaver’s artistry. This model shifts the paradigm from consuming knowledge to contributing knowledge, and in so doing creates spaces rich with mutual recognition and respect.
Recognizing that today’s youth crave relevance, Ishfaq proposes Youth Idea Labs and monthly “People’s Parliaments” where students debate real-world issues, governance, health, education, environment, sowing seeds of leadership and civic participation.
Amidst a region that has often seen alienation from formal political process, such platforms instill public-spiritedness and empowered agency.
Finally, the inclusion of healing zones, silent speaker circles using nonverbal mediums like art, music, and gesture, addresses the urgent need for mental-health awareness and emotional expression. These libraries become sanctuaries not just for knowledge, but for belonging, memory, and solace.
In advocating for Zinda Kitaab Ghars, Ishfaq Manzoor offers more than a cultural proposal; he offers a lifeline. Libraries must evolve to serve the emotional, cultural, and civic needs of their communities. Jammu & Kashmir doesn’t just need more books, it needs more connections - living, breathing, human connections. It needs spaces where stories walk off shelves and speak to the soul.
Iqbal Ahmad is an archaeologist
and an author
