A book (af)fair

Navjeevan Singh and I share our experience at the Delhi Book Fair.

A book (af)fair

Some people felt the books with hands, some squat near corners and read, some read random pages and covers, some just flipped and glanced, some took the books closer to their noses, some looked up the books online to figure out more, some looked for books at wrong places, some sought books that weren’t there, some observed other people while some just drifted in and out of the stalls.

We were at the Delhi Book Fair.

People and more people 

Books and more books

There were those who had come with large bags having wheels while some had converted baby strollers to book carrying apparatuses. There were people who had come with friends and family, people who had come alone to put in time with books and people who had come to put in time with those they had come along with. Some had done their homework; they were armed with lists. The young appeared to outnumber the old.

The book fair, annual pilgrimage for many, was well publicised and the tickets were available at the metro station itself. Aptly it was the senior citizens who had free entry and not the children! At the entrance we skirted around couple of people handing leaflets and wondered why people still print so many of these only to hand them over to disinterested (well, most of them) individuals. Around us leaflets lay unwanted like dead flies. Once inside we were greeted with happy voices talking about books. If any act comes somewhere close to reading a book it is that of chatting about a book with friends. 

Books (and book fairs) like films and music 

Tell a tale of the time

In the English pavilion amongst the books highlighted we saw those on Ayodhya and those with images of film-stars on their covers – actresses and actors of Hindi films. In the pavilion with Hindi books the stall of the Gita Press made an impression with the crowds it continued to attract during the time we put in each of our visits. Children pavilion had stalls with games, flash-cards, work-sheets and colours. We had hoped this pavilion to have been bigger. The pavilion on disability was a bigger disappointment. If anything, an indicator of how meagre our awareness and sensitivity on the issue are, leave aside our abilities to deal with the issue.

Amidst the unending lines and right-angled turns some stalls brought in a whiff breath of fresh air. Their creations were original, eye-catching and oozed passion. These include Ektara and Khwab Tanha Collective. Ektara’s books and posters were a ‘love at first sight’ experience. Meant for children they carry lines full of fun and free from baggage of moral gyan. The Khwab Tanha Collective had postcards, calendars and other items bearing images and lines of greats like Jaun Eliya, Munir Niazi and Mirza Ghalib. These lines were in English and Hindi besides Urdu -the language that most of these poets wrote in.

Translations of an author filling up an entire rack

Transliteration of a classic

Few stalls had books stacked up in random piles and they included pre-sold books. Kiran Nagarkar has written endearingly about how local trains in Mumbai have people jammed together irrespective of their social and financial backgrounds. Elsewhere they may not talk with some or scorn at presence of others, based on these backgrounds, but in the local trains their bodies crush and press against one another. I was reminded of his lines when I saw the books mingled and wedged together at these stalls. In their previous avatars they would have been on separate shelves or even in separate stores altogether.

The ambience in the English pavilion was in sharp contrast to what we came across in the pavilion with books in Hindi where we put in more time. It was almost like being in two different countries. Although both pavilions were equally crowded, the people looked different, spoke differently, and even smelled different. We were reminded of how dissimilar the advertisements in English and Hindi news channels during the same time-slot are – as if catering to separate species. Did our behaviour also alter as we moved from one of these pavilions to the other? 

Penguins dance

Film stars pose

Each of the two days we attended the book fair had us in awe with the sheer number of books around. The ambience got us silent and happy. Our sensation of touch and sight surged as did our response mechanism to the printed word. This continued for a couple of hours or a little more after which our limbs convey the need for rest. The eyes too tired of words and increasingly more and more words appeared similar or uninteresting. Our need for a break then was akin to that of a break after a heavy meal, one we had craved for. 

As we walked towards the exit on both days we realized this was one of the few occasions when we had been happy to be in the middle of so many people; people we shared the sheer pleasure of being amidst books with. The only question we had was why do we not get good tea and coffee at these India and films events?