A gaggle of women have come to hear me read from my book, Cloud 9 Minus One, at Priti’s house. For Priti, time is a stretchable commodity. She had committed to me in April that she would host this event, but it is now finally November when I’m doing this. In the meantime, other events have intervened, Damodar’s illness being the main one, and of course the launch of the book in October. Though I don’t admit it, this is actually a better time to read, since the audience can buy a copy on the spot, rather than go to the bookstore.
I know only one of the women in that room. It’s Alka. Her face radiates peace and confidence, an irresistible combination for me. I like peaceful faces. They counter my own turbulence, even if it is hidden behind a blank visage. She introduces me to another woman, a bubbly, giggly person called Archana who, surprisingly, knows a lot about books. For this reason, she too is my kind of person, though I’m not sure I like the ever-present smile. But we chat, and after the reading, I present to them my idea of a book club. They both welcome it, but my native scepticism kicks in. Everyone likes something, nobody wants to do anything about it.
A week later, I send a message round, inviting Priti, Archana and Alka to my place for the first session of the book club. Without the children, my home is a good place to meet. We agree to meet after dinner, since Archana is always late back from work. The session begins at nine. I have lined up three books that I want to talk about. This is part of my Plan B. If no one else has prepared anything, at least I can bring some zing into the meeting. One must, I’ve learnt in life, always have a Plan B. One avoids disappointment when plan A doesn’t work. What are the chances that, in this case, plan A, ie, everyone bringing along a book to talk about, will work? About one in ten, I presume. Alka is the first to arrive, and pulls out two books from a huge bag before I can even offer her a glass of water, my way of breaking the ice. Archana follows a few minutes later, bursting to talk about her book of the month. I quietly hide my hoard. It is, I discover, a time to listen. And Papyrus is born.
Since December 2009, Papyrus has met every month to talk about books over wine or coffee or food. From meeting at someone’s house, usually mine or Alka’s, we have shifted to coffee shops and restaurants, getting together for tea or dinner and even, once, for breakfast. Through deaths, and marriages and other catastrophes, we have clung to Papyrus like a solid boat in a very rocky sea, replenishing our energy with the vitamin shot of discovering new books and writers and genres.
I have been introduced to Tracy Chevalier, Jean Rhys and Seamus Heaney. In turn, I have introduced Sarah Waters, Richard Ford and Jonathan Franzen to the group. We have discussed pornography and mystery writing and feminist literature, and workshopped each other’s stories. One of the most memorable sessions was when Dnyanada and Archana, the two poets in the group, read their poems. I came back, scintillated, then, and wished for that particular breakfast to go on forever.
Last week we spoke about Haroun and the Sea of Stories, Rushdie’s charming book for children, which, as I discovered when I read it, is not really for children at all. We discussed his control over both language and ideas, and the fact that he has successfully combined political satire with fantasy in this book. After reading Haroun, I felt he might not be such a tiresome writer after all. I had started finding his style overpowering, with his dense usage of words. Haroun restored my belief in Rushdie’s greatness as a writer. I felt ashamed that I hadn’t read this book sooner, though it had been lying on my bookshelf for the last ten years.
The July session of Papyrus moves to Alibagh. I can’t wait to hear Dnyanada’s exposition of Murakami’s South of the Border, West of the Sun. Dnyanada brings a wealth of theoretical knowledge to our group of philistines. In August, all of us are going to read Sophie’s World, and I can’t wait for these events.
