Sir PM appeared to be in a cheery mood; he was even humming to a popular western classical melody. Lady Flora could easily gauge the positivity from his body language. Their Sunday hangout trail had become a ritual now, where the duo would meet, to discuss their favourite city in their own worldly-wise way
Representation pic
Sir PM appeared to be in a cheery mood; he was even humming to a popular western classical melody. Lady Flora could easily gauge the positivity from his body language. Their Sunday hangout trail had become a ritual now, where the duo would meet, to discuss their favourite city in their own worldly-wise way.
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This Sunday was no different. “Why the spring in your stride with Mozart on your mind?” Lady Flora smiled, with her usual gusto. “I instantly slip into a good mood when surrounded by books. I just returned from a thoroughly engaging time at the literature festival nearby. Yesterday, the missus was in a mad rush to catch one session that featured her two favourite bawa–I mean Parsi–authors. It slipped my mind to inform you. My sincere apologies. She read about it in this newspaper; Farrukh Dhondy and Murzban Shroff were going to be in conversation, and insisted that I accompany her. The endless queues caught us off-guard. I’ve never seen anything like this before, especially for a literature festival. Eventually, I had to…errrr…use my connections to enter. Many had to skip the session because it was a full house, like so many other sessions. The session itself was delightful: there was laughter in the house, witty repartees from both the writers, anecdotal gems and delightful chatter about Poona and Bombay’s metamorphoses,” Sir PM carried on.
“That was yesterday; so you returned to catch more sessions earlier today?” Lady Flora was upset, after hearing her friend’s experiences, and more importantly, that she wasn’t in the mix of things. “I would have appreciated an invite.” Sir PM’s face fell. He had erred. “I apologise. I admit that I got caught in the moment. Never before has the city looked so celebratory around a books-related event. I’ll surely make it up the
next time.”
Lady Flora had cooled down by now. She couldn’t be mad at her absent-minded friend. And with that she returned to her observation, “Next time means next year. I cannot imagine that the ‘Maximum City’ has only one big literature festival. Please correct me if I am wrong, Pheroze…” she anxiously glanced at her friend, who was polishing off the cookies she had brought for their teatime adda. “Sadly, it’s the only one. There is a separate vertical at the annual Kala Ghoda Arts Festival that draws in the crowds, but apart from that, we cannot boast of another large festival, which is a shame,” Sir PM’s voice fell, as the last words rolled out.
“I am embarrassed that my city, once known for its rich reading culture, is unable to host more such large-scale literary events.” Lady Flora had to have her say. “I feel it has something to do with intent. While it’s all very well to have multiple cultural and entertainment festivals in the itinerary, as I am reading these days in this newspaper’s around town section, a realisation is emerging. There is an over-packed schedule between November and January-February. Beyond that, the city faces a drought when it comes to immersive experiences. Sure, I understand that we have a longish monsoon and humid summers but I bet there is still scope not to pack in a lot more in this three-four month period. I feel we are missing a trick.”
A realisation had struck Sir PM. “I overheard a festival regular sigh that there were two more festivals on that weekend apart from the literature-focused one; one was theatre-themed and the other celebrated art and design. So, we as Bombaywallahs lose out because they are all spread out, and we know how commuting in the city can be a nightmare,” he informed. “This is exactly what I was referring to! Why not pan things out throughout the year? Citizens are accustomed to navigate the rains or mercury levels. Why not have bookstores come together to host month-long weekends of discussions and readings? It could become such a wonderful long-term celebration. And this is just one idea. Surely, the interest for books cannot all be bottled into one-two events in one quarter of the year. The dialogue, discussion and community-bonding around books must be an all-year scenario. Only then will we be able to call ourselves a culturally-rich city. Bejewelled installations and hastily curated exhibitions cannot be termed as festivals, just as much as discounted book fairs that sell pirated copies. The encouraging response at this literature festival should help kickstart a renewed approach; corporates must play their part as visionary, benevolent citizens by funding such initiatives to ensure these literature festivals remain sustainable and not one-off ideas that fizzle out eventually,” Lady Flora was pleased with her observations.
“Pheroze, let’s get to work and draft a proposal so we can use your good connections in the right places to begin spadework for this new dream project,” she signed off. Now, it was her turn to hum her favourite Beethoven harmony.
mid-day’s Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city’s sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her.
She tweets @bombayana.
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