At 2.30 pm on a working day, the only sound in India's most expensive and best-equipped library—an architectural milestone by Raj Rawal—is of the vacuum cleaner being run with unsarkari thoroughness over the sandstone walls and ceiling. The steady overpowering din, like that at a construction site, does not disturb the readers for a good reason: there is not a single visitor in the 55,000 sq mts Parliament Library.

"I don't see more than 10-15 members using the library whenever I come," admits Forward Bloc Rajya Sabha member Debabrata Biswas, described by the librarian, Saroj Bala, as one of the most frequent visitors.

Some 50-odd members use the library. Most of them are from the Rajya Sabha.

But for a frequent visitor, Biswas says he doesn't get to the library more than once a week. "I'm the leader of my party in the Rajya Sabha and don't find enough time to come more frequently," he explains.

But for a library that is so singularly readerless, the number of missing books is appalling. During the 13th Lok Sabha, for example, a total of 190 members from both the houses were fined for losing books they (or their staff) had borrowed. The library usually writes them off as losses, but this time, thanks to an Election Commission directive, it is mandatory for all MPs to pay their dues. The library recovered a whopping fine of

Rs 1,25,917 from the MPs for books they had "lost." Among the defaulters are Renuka Choudhury (India and the Emerging World Order by Dilip H. Mohite) and Rajiv Pratap Rudy, who "lost" two books: India's Enemy Within by C.P. Srivastava and What Ails Indian Parliament by A. Suryaprakash. Home minister Shivraj Patil's taste, judging by the book he has been fined for, runs to pulp fiction: Dragonfire by Humphrey Hawksley.

Another Congress MP, Buta Singh, shows more enthusiasm for borrowing books, even if he doesn't return them: he has been fined for eight books, two of them on the caste system, two on the Congress party and a novel—Tagore's Home and the World. But it's DMK MP S.S. Palanimanickam who takes the cake. He lost 23 books, including, oddly enough, a book titled Single in the City. Even a librarian's delight like Congress member and now minister Mani Shankar Aiyer, confesses he is a "sinner"—it's a book whose title he's forgotten but remembers returning. The library says he has not.

The ideal reader, according to the library's staff, was Manmohan Singh. "He borrowed the maximum number of books and what is more, returned them the same day. He even suggested so many books the library should acquire," says Bala.

Twenty years ago, when a Lok Sabha committee went ahead with a plan to build a modern library for MPs, it seemed like a good idea. The existing facility had long since spilled over from its makeshift quarters in Parliament House. "There were more than 2,00,000 books, 4,00,000 documents, 1,00,000 periodicals and no space to store them," recalls a former librarian who worked there for 35 years. The books, she says, were stacked wherever there was space, in rooms on three floors and even in a bungalow across the road. "Each time an MP wanted to consult a book or report, we had to scurry across three floors, sometimes even walk to the adjacent house to look for it."

The plan for building a new library was an ambitious one: a centrally-airconditioned, two-storeyed building—one and a half times the combined size of Parliament House and its annexe—with a two-level basement to stack three million books, underground parking, multi-media reading rooms and cubicles besides an auditorium, a media centre, banquet hall and a museum. It took eight years and over Rs 200 crore to build the 'architectural marvel of modern India'. Just how much it costs in daily upkeep no one is willing to say, but the electricity bills, computer maintenance and staff salary alone may tot up to several lakhs of rupees per day". It took over seven months to merely move all the books to the new building," says the former librarian. And with the library adding 200 books and periodicals a week to its vast collection, it won't be long before it overtakes Calcutta's National Library as the largest in the country. But she, like most of the 200 staff who run the library, sometimes wonder if it was such a good idea to shift to the new building after all. "At least 100 to 200 members used to visit the old library, whereas far fewer members venture into the new one," an ex-librarian points out.

The reason why the country's second largest library fails to attract the members it was built for may sound flimsy: the new building, situated inside the Parliament complex, is a five-minute walk from Parliament House. Explains Biswas: "The old library was next to Central Hall and it was very convenient for members who wanted to catch up with newspapers or if they needed some reference material fast for speaking in zero hour or for special mention. Besides, there were canteens all around it. Not like in the new building where there is only one canteen on the third floor."

Accessing the new library building is a problem, agrees Aiyer. In the old building, "you could pop in while a debate was on to look up something. But it's sort of nervous to be in another building not knowing when you'll be called to speak."

But old building or new, as both Biswas and Aiyer point out, the Parliament Library has few serious users. "There are only a handful of MPs who made good use of the library," says Aiyer. "I'd say about 50 members are serious users. Most of them are from the Rajya Sabha. This is because Lok Sabha members get caught up in local politics and very few are interested in serious debate or reading," agrees Biswas.

Which is a pity because, as Biswas says, the new library is ideal for reading."It's more spacious, there is no noise, the books are well-organised and you can find so much material on any subject if you want to write something." Unfortunately, he adds, "few MPs have such interests."

Neither can Biswas understand why members don't make adequate use of the awesome reference materials the library boasts of. "This section is very useful for speaking during question hour or in answering supplementaries in Parliament. I don't know why members of larger parties who are less busy in Parliament don't make better use of the library."

One reason, according to Aiyer, could be the decline of debates in the House. "The library's research wing was a convenient shortcut for MPs who wanted background for their speeches. But now you're lucky if you get half-hour to speak. The average time is more like ten minutes. And if you have too much material, you'll only get confused. An MP is now likely to wonder why he is going through all this trouble of collecting material if he is not allowed to debate."

Aiyer himself confesses he uses the library for "unparliamentary purposes." Such as writing his latest book, Confessions of a Fundamental Secularist. It was then that he discovered what a treasure trove the library was. "There are parliamentary archives going back to the debates in the House of Commons on India." Surprisingly, he discovered that the impressive collection had some major gaps. "Books I thought would be here as a matter of course weren't." Partly, he says, it's the members' fault. "They borrow books and never return them."

But with readers like him or Manmohan rare in the library, Aiyar suggests that it be thrown open to scholars. "It's sad that a library that cost a fortune to build—and maintain—is not put to optimum use." In theory, scholars are allowed to use the library for 15 days each during the inter-session. But that's easier said than done, says Krishna Hombal, a political science lecturer from Mysore University. Hombal arrived in Delhi, armed with a letter from his registrar, head of the department and his PhD guide. But by the time he wrangled permission to enter the library 10 days later, it was time to go back home.

While scholars like Hombal find it impossible to access the library, MPs and ex-MPs can walk in when they like. As Bala says, sitting at the counter of the deserted reading room: "We're here to serve them." If only there was someone to serve.