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Hindustan Times
4 days ago
- General
- Hindustan Times
Delhiwale: Paradise is in Sector 14, see!
Washed laundry is drying in the porch. The bungalow truly looks ordinary, here in Gurugram's Sector 14. A jaali door opens into a corridor illumined in the afternoon light. Spotting the staircase inside gives the first jolt. It is littered with neat stacks of books. Up the stairs, the veranda is wholly crammed with books. So is the drawing room. So are the two bedrooms. The kitchen, too. Books claim beds, sofas, tables and chairs. This private library is the work of a lifetime. At 84, the antiquarian bookseller Vijay Kumar Jain is warming up to the theme of retirement. His long relationship with 'old, rare books on South Asia in general and India in particular' had begun in the 1960s. Gradually, the collection became renowned. Bibliophiles from across the world would visit his ancestral mansion in the town's Sadar Bazar to view the prized editions. After the family sold the old house a decade ago, Vijay Kumar moved the collection to his current address. Today, the books inhabit the bungalow's first floor. He, with wife, Nisha, and their family, inhabit the more navigable ground-floor rooms. Attentively waving an arm towards his precious piles of hardbounds, the mild-mannered host murmurs softly: 'This section is all partition, Punjab is over there… that's Bengal… here is Gandhiana…' The first editions include several, but not all, of the 100 volumes of 'The Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi.' A first edition Nehru is stacked tight in a shelf — its opening page bears the seal of 'Kitabistan, Allahabad.' 'The Jews of India' lies close to 'The Aryans in Iran and India.' Smiling under his bushy moustache, the book collector recalls the cross-country tours of his youth, visiting collectors and sellers in various cities, plus the weekly excursions to Delhi's legendary Sunday Book Bazar. During the early days of struggles and uncertainties, he would spent hours preparing the catalogues of his new acquisitions, the copies posted to college libraries and research scholars worldwide. Then came the day when young Vijay received his 'first fat order.' It had arrived from Germany's Heidelberg University. The excitement propelled him to cycle to elder brother Satya Prakash's residence in distant Delhi. He had felt an urgent urge to share the news with his beloved 'bhai saheb,' who had initiated him into books. Vijay Kumar had five brothers. All have passed—one was Ansari Road bookseller Ramesh Chandra, who operated independently. Strolling slowly from one room to another, the elderly gent pauses to gush over handsome bindings. He picks up the yellowed front page of the 3 April, 1924 edition of 'Young India,' a journal that Gandhi edited. Finally, settling down into a chair, he grows sentimental. 'When I hold an old book, I feel ajeeb sa anand, a kind of mental sakoon.'
Hindustan Times
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Delhiwale: Mashak wallas, past and present
It all began one afternoon in Delhi's Sunday Book Bazar, on fishing out the first edition of an out-of-print guidebook on the Walled City. Published more than 35 years ago, 'Old Delhi: 10 Easy Walks' was authored by two Englishwomen, Gaynor Barton and Laurraine Malone. The cover shows a man standing in front of the Jama Masjid. He is in check lungi, with something slung on his shoulder. It is a mashak, an old-fashioned goat-skin bag. Long ago in Purani Dilli, a mashak walla would draw water from the well, pour it into his goat-skin bag, and hawk the water from house to house. Today, Jama Masjid still stands in the same place where this photo was clicked. But the mashak walla is not to be sighted. A bit more exploration of the area reveals the presence of a functioning well. And just beside the well, a tea stall. And hanging from the tea stall's wall: mashaks! A man in pants-shirt is sitting on a wooden cot. He introduces himself as a mashak walla. Muhammed Rafi concentratedly studies the photo on the book's cover, and recognises the man--'Bhoore!' Centuries ago, water-sellers roamed the labyrinthine alleys of Shahjahanabad, selling well water in mashaks—just as contemporary vendors now sell 'refrigerated cold water' from metal trolleys. Mughal emperor Humayun was said to be once drowning in the Ganga and rescued by a water carrier, Nizam, who gave him his mashak to swim over the river. This story is mentioned in the Humayun Museum, which opened last year in Delhi.. Bhoore, the mashak walla depicted on the book cover, died a long time ago, says Rafi. Sitting beside his own mashaks, Rafi is a member of the endangered species, since it is almost impossible to find mashak wale these days. Rafi says that the profession of hawking mashak water has passed down to him from his ancestors. For a long time, he worked as a labourer in Azadpur Subzi Mandi, while his father and two uncles carried the family legacy of mashak. One of the uncles died, another fell sick, and some months ago, his father gave up the work due to old age and returned to their village in nearby Amroha. This series of events obliged Rafi to give up his job as a labourer and to take up the profession of mashak walla. 'It is my duty to continue this heritage,' he says matter-of-factly, looking intently at the mashak walla on the book cover. Gesturing towards the mashaks hanging behind him, he clarifies that these are not historic relics. They were made recently, and he himself is well-rehearsed in the craft of making mashaks. He graciously agrees to pose with the book.
Hindustan Times
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Delhiwale: Sealed with a love
Let us sing in praise of inscriptions. The ones encountered on the opening pages of used books, scrawled by hands perhaps long dead. Indeed, in Delhi's legendary Sunday Book Bazar, secondhand books on sale often bear such personalised words—sometimes written by the book's owner, sometimes as dedications jotted by the person gifting the book to a friend or relative. Reading these lines, composed in confidence by a person unknown to us, spawns multiple feelings. Is the person who wrote them still alive? What circumstances made this book homeless? Here are some of the many inscriptions encountered over the years at Sunday Book Bazar. No single jotting tells a complete story, but jointly they create an encyclopaedia of loves, lives, and commemorations. 'In memory of my uncle James Henry, my father's brother. Killed in action at Sawnanghut, 6/6/1916. RFA, 66th Bgde, 13th Div, p 489' — On the book 'The Neglected War, Mesopotamia 1914-1918' PS: The aforementioned page, numbered 489, has a line listing 66th Brigade R.F.A., marked in blue pen with 'Uncle Henry.' '24/12/66, To the man I love, you are the brightest and the dumbest, the weirdest and the most normal, read it… please. Not because you need to learn but because it contains a thought worth giving a thought to.' — On '211 Things a Bright Boy Can Do' 'To Pete, Happy Birthday + happy reading, should keep you going till you're 21. Helen + Richard' — On 'Bleak House' 'To Jane, Thank you for listening when I speak, love, Julie' — On 'The Well of Loneliness' PS: This book was among the earliest novels on lesbian love, and the inscribed names Jane and Julie (see photo) suggest a bond between the two. 'I feel a dead language now that I don't speak to you anymore… you must be for it and not against… for ever yours, Nana, 18/3/55'— On 'Ulysses' 'To Mum, Happy Birthday on your 90th , from Paul & Jacque' — On 'Cat Stories' 'Annie Bayman—read on the 'Ariel,' Mathew's narrow boat, summer of 2012, drinking coffee, reading, papers—talking food & wine, thank you, Mathew' — On 'Bring up the Bodies' 'This book belongs to Rameshwar Nath Sharma, Student of B.A. (Hons), IInd yr, Hindu College, Delhi-8' — On 'T. S. Eliot's Selected Poems' PS: Also written this on the bottom of the same page: 'Look up and see the owner's name, don't steal the book for fear and shame. 25 August 1955'
