As dust settled under Saturday night’s torrential downpour and the sun shone brighter this last Sunday of September, the Neev Literature Festival 2024 was wrapping up. Back to Bangalore after a long hiatus, we’ve been insatiable book-hungry consumers of this annual fest. This year marked our third rodeo, and I even decided to volunteer. I was delegated the Speaker Book Shelves spot, right next to the Book Signing Area. It was like being in the front row of a chaotic concert where the main act was… books!
Here, amidst the joyful chaos, I could eavesdrop on heartfelt conversations—the very essence of a community coming alive. Books were lovingly browsed, as parents and children engaged in spirited negotiations over just one more addition to their towering stacks. I could hear a mother sweetly promising her child that the next book in the series was just a little while away, while other parents carried home entire cartons of books, hopeful that their kids would embrace the treasure. Excitement was palpable as kids from nearby schools eagerly urged their parents to bring this delightful festival of books to their own schools, dreaming of the day they could congregate with their friends to choose their own beloved reads. In this whirlwind of enthusiasm, it was clear that the love for stories was thriving, making the festival not just an event, but a cherished memory in the making.
Then there was my son, who decided to go on a full-on budget-buster. As the text messages of his spending binges flooded my phone, I cornered him during one of his market escapades. He outsmarted me by getting a friend to scoop up some books on his behalf. Classic move!
It was endearing to see many teenagers grab copies of picture books like "No Hugs for Mummy" and "The Big Bad Fight”. I caught one of my favorite teachers in the queue, who was gleefully clutching the entire “Maithili and The Minotaur” series—not for her kid, but for herself.
As I surveyed the disappearing books—seriously, they were vanishing faster than my sanity during a school pick-up—I fielded anxious questions from authors: “Are my books selling? Will they be restocked?” I watched some of the authors as they snapped selfies in front of their shelves post-signing, and then quickly went their way to their next sessions.
The queues got bigger as there was hardly any network (the school is right behind HAL and hence), the struggle to pay was real. We Bangaloreans have almost no memory of how a 100 rupee note looks like, thanks to UPI. The foreign delegates emerged smarter and had cash as they were not sure if their International Cards would work. As people held up their phones, almost praying to God to magically empower their latest models with 4G LTE at least, I took it down as a feedback to relay that having a festival Wi Fi could really make book buying less stressful.
As the afternoon unrolled, the kids kept running up to me flaunting their black tote bags, full of books like trophies, to get their NLF passports stamped for the marketplace check box while sharing some fun bits of their day. After five straight hours of being on my toes, the kind souls at the Sahitya Santhe offered me a seat, but I was having way too much fun. Standing next to the koi pond (which is our normal spot to grab the filter coffee the school never fails to provide on the PTM days), I soaked up all the warmth, all the small talks, all implorations, a dad’s love as he patiently carried a carton full of books for her daughter in the sixth grade, another dad’s silent encouragement as his daughter got six copies of the same book to distribute to all her best friends - it was one of the best days of my life.
In those moments of chaos, I realized how much the school leaves an imprint on us, how much my school had left an impression on me and how I am so looking forward to see the ways it shapes up our next of kins.
Thank you Neev Literature Foundation for making this festival a heart-warming yearly tradition that feels like home!
Comments