It is a mid-summer noon, the tar road simmering with mirages. The usual melee is missing in Abids, which is choc-a-bloc six days a week. On Sunday, the Tilak Road in particular, wears a different charm. In front of downed shutters are booksellers who have held on to their spots for the past decade or even more. Different spots, different themes; some sell novels, others non-fiction; some sell coffee table books, others tomes related to computer science; some sell comics, others erotica. Clusters of booksellers are strategically placed to ensure one could walk a mile or two without losing sight of books, ideal for a stroll if you love stoking your grey cells with random words greeting you from covers delectably displayed on makeshift shelves.
Prized collections
Oh, the insights they could give on how the reading crowd of Hyderabad has changed over the years. Reminiscing about the times gone by, Ahmed Ali of the famous ‘Best’ bookstore, which trades in second hand and new books across all genres says, “It wasn’t always like this when paying the bills itself has become troublesome. There were times when I would see dozens of readers settling in nooks and corners of my store, looking frantically for rare copies that are hard to find.” Ahmed has been selling books for more than 25 years now and fondly remembers customers who would surprise him. He remembers the lady who purchased books worth ₹2 lakh years ago, all comics, hard bound, for her four-year-old child. He smiles when he thinks of the esoteric man who looked approvingly at Best’s collection but lamented that he had read them all. When Ahmed looked at him sceptically, the reader invited him home. “An entire house with books pouring out of everywhere and I had to believe him eventually,” Ahmed chuckles. “I have had the good fortune to go to homes of booklovers, buying entire rooms of books at a fixed price,” Ahmed says, talking about how he built his diverse collection acquiring books with not much bargaining, just a mutual understanding between connoisseurs of the yellowed paperbacks.
That is the beauty of the Sunday Book Bazaar in Abids. Every bookseller has stories. Each one can serenade customers with rare titles. Everyone can regale you with their understanding of the value of a book — any book, every book. “Dan Brown, Stephen King, John Grisham, Ayn Rand, Mario Puzo, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Dale Carnegie — these are the authors that sell. But, I keep some rare gems as well,” Afroz says, handing me Betrand Russell’s autobiography, quoting its price with a hint of hubris, uncharacteristically adorable. The second year BA student beams with pride when he talks about Booker Winners and Pulitzer winners, mentioning the awards subtly to convince readers who are on the fence. “Business is not so bad, to be honest. It depends on generous customers. A couple of such customers every Sunday can make my day,” he says, talking about patrons who often buy books worth thousands. When asked about how he manages to get the right books, he says, “I gather books from everywhere. Sometimes we get them from libraries getting shut down. Sometimes we buy entire carriers full of cartons from Mumbai, which is our primary source of second hand books.”
College projects
Not far away from him is Mustafa, who takes pride in selling the rarest of magazines, gold dust at the price of dirt. “I buy magazines from dealers, distributors, readers and shops. Sometimes, I lose track of how many I have bought. Obviously, some magazines are damaged in the warehouse too. However, I manage to sell them off more often than not. It depends on luck too, but I have a good idea of what sells. The odd traveller walks to me and picks up every copy of Lonely Planet, Traveller, Conde Nast or National Geographic. Many management students come looking for Harvard Business Review, Forbes or Bloomberg Businessweek. College students come during summers for magazines on health, lifestyle, and gadgets for their projects. Because I buy in bulk I get them cheap, and keep low margins,” he confesses.
The avenues aren’t exactly teeming with book readers the way they used to be a decade ago. “People are getting everything online. So, even I have started selling more on Amazon,” Ahmed reveals wistfully, as he hopes that the cycle will be completed and we are ushered once again into an age when the book reader will return to the brick and mortar shop.”
One hopes that the clock will turn, for, along the stretch from Abids to Koti, the book reader will find myriad excuses to halt — whether he needs books on yoga or mythology, economics or self help.
The biggest joy of walking through the Book Bazaar lies in discovery, and in adding to your stack, which doesn’t work the same way as the online cart. Every book you pick, your discount goes up by a few more percentage points, an implicit understanding between the buyer and the giver, participants in a dwindling tradition that still warms the heart on a Sunday afternoon.
