Between popcorn and pages: When winter walks in with books

Neelim Akash Kashyap

(neelimassam@gmail.com)

With the arrival of winter, book fairs begin to spread across Assam. A book fair is, in essence, a celebration-a festival of books. Whenever the subject of book fairs is raised, thoughts naturally turn to their history as well. From what our limited knowledge suggests, book fairs are believed to have originated in Europe, although this claim has often been debated. While many accept that the first book fair was held in Frankfurt, Germany, in 1622, others argue that the modern, full-fledged book fair truly began only in 1949.

In the years that followed, these literary 'festivals' gradually spread across the world, and India, too, felt their influence deeply. As far as we know, India's first book fair was held in 1970 at Pragati Maidan in New Delhi, and within just two years it attained international stature. However, the book fair, which has been held in Kolkata since 1975, is widely regarded as the largest in the country. Assam, too, no longer lags behind-today, book fairs are being organized in many districts of the state.

A book fair is synonymous with a celebration of books. In the warmth of this literary festival, surrounded by books on all sides, we ourselves feel energized and alive. Though there is no fixed time for buying or reading books, for a true lover of books, every day of the year and every hour of the day resembles a book fair. And yet, book fairs occupy a special place in all our hearts. Perhaps that is why we enjoy walking through their lanes-feeling excited, delighted, and emotionally fulfilled. It is this soft corner in the heart of every book lover that draws us to buy books at book fairs. Even those who purchase numerous books throughout the year tend to save a little extra money specifically for the book fair. That feeling-that atmosphere-is unique. It is beyond description.

Personally, the presence of the younger generation at book fairs fills me with joy. In the same way, I feel encouraged when I hear that quietly written books, created without noise or publicity, are still able to attract readers. This is not imagination-it is lived experience.

This year, several books written by me have been part of that experience. 'Utha-Jaaga-Xaar Powa,' the first Assamese novel on Zubeen Garg, and its English version, 'Tempest over the Brahmaputra,' have reached a large number of readers. Alongside these novels, the socio-political novel 'Chakrabehu,' which explores the politics behind politics, continues to find readers, as does 'Jiwanto Priyo Kidore Karim,' a collection of motivational essays on life. Children and teenage readers have shown interest in 'Jadukori Dweepatot Zeeu,' a fantasy novel written for children.  In addition, an expanded edition of 'Zubeen Gargor Gaan Aaru Kobitar Galpa,' first published in 2015, has been released once again. Publishers have informed me that 'Chakrabehu,' along with 'Utha-Jaaga-Xaar Powa,' 'Tempest over Brahmaputra,' and 'Zubeen Gargor Gaan Aaru Kobitar Galpa,' have been warmly received by readers. Such encouraging news rekindles dreams within us-dreams of immersing ourselves in new creative pursuits.

It is precisely at moments like these, when one is uplifted by hope and positive news, that I fail to understand a frequently repeated complaint. We often hear that Assamese books have little demand, that the number of readers is declining, and that the younger generation no longer reads books. Based on real-life experience, I say this clearly-such complaints are largely baseless. I reject them outright.

Yes, it is true that the younger generation spends a great deal of time on the internet. But that does not mean they do not read books. A little genuine inquiry, instead of superficial judgment, will reveal that young men and women who read regularly are all around us. Ironically, I sometimes feel that it is we-the writers ourselves-who read comparatively less, especially contemporary Assamese literature written by our peers. Many young writers are no exception to this tendency. Perhaps this is why, for many years now, we have failed to offer readers books that truly flow through the heart. And what of senior writers? I feel that, barring a few exceptions, many senior writers and literary figures rarely read books written by younger authors. If they were to willingly buy and read such books and offer guidance, the younger pens might produce even better work.

Beyond reading books received as gifts, if senior writers were to buy books by younger authors and even subtly acknowledge having read them, the pens of the young would surely move with greater enthusiasm, weaving richer garlands of words. But will that truly happen in reality?

There are other things that unsettle me when I walk through book fairs. I see many people entering not to buy books, but to eat popcorn or take selfies and group photos. What does this indicate? You may call me narrow-minded and say that even if they come for selfies or popcorn, the fact that they come close to books is still a positive sign. I would agree-if history did not caution us otherwise. Once, when large numbers of young people began writing poetry, many said, "At least they are writing poems instead of doing nothing." Today, however, we have been compelled to raise serious questions about poetry versus non-poetry. Let us not create such a situation again.

Still, I carefully nurture a hope in my heart-that even those who now come only for selfies, group photos, or popcorn may gradually fall in love with books and eventually turn into true book lovers.