Pages of an old book trail

A file photograph of the Smoker’s Corner bookshop on Sir PM Road. Pic/mid-day archives

The journey to attend an event honouring Sir Garfield Sobers at the Bombay Gymkhana on a hot Monday evening reminded me of a book on Sobers that I had purchased in the vicinity of the venue that hosted India's first Test match in 1933-34. The book, written by his contemporary Trevor Bailey and simply titled Sir Gary, was one of many works on Sobers published during and after his playing career.

South Mumbai was, and probably still is, a go-to destination for book lovers. This became even more evident to me in the mid-1980s, when I made my rounds as a book salesman, selling sports books for one organisation and general titles for another.

The pavement booksellers who set up shop outside the boundary walls of the Central Telegraph Office (CTO) and the High Court always had second-hand cricket books on offer, ranging from cheap to expensive, and from damaged copies to those in mint condition. That stretch has since been cleared, and the present-day haunt for pavement book lovers is outside Oriental Building, an unmissable stop on the way to admire the marvel that is Flora Fountain.

During my sales trips around what my bosses called the Fountain Area - the South Mumbai round - I got to know the people who were the pillars of some of the city's prominent bookshops. They had a remarkable rapport with their customers, as well as with salesmen like me. Sadly, many of those bookshops no longer exist, but the memories remain.

My Fountain Area round began with a visit to the bookshop in the lobby of the President Hotel at Cuffe Parade. Orders were few and far between, at least in my case.

Next came Causeway Book Stall in Colaba. I vaguely remember its polite Parsi owners. On the same road, a small shop with Raj as part of its name sold books and audio cassettes. The owner loved to chat, and the struggles of the book trade often featured in our conversations.

Further down was Shankar Book Stall, which stocked a large quantity of books. If you were lucky, you could land an order from Shankar Mani that would put a smile on your face.

Nalanda, the bookshop at the Taj, not only provided one an opportunity to experience unparalleled opulence, but also a chance to meet genial men like Rajan and Gopi, two of Nalanda's mainstays. They were keen to order sports books, particularly because cricket teams were generally accommodated at the Taj.

If you managed to get an order from the bookshop inside Chetana restaurant at Kala Ghoda, it was likely to be for yoga titles. Thacker & Co on Rampart Row is one bookshop I dearly miss. Its stock did justice to the large space it occupied.

The walk from Kala Ghoda to the next destination was not particularly short, especially if you decided that a South Indian snack would suffice for lunch before you reached International Book House on Homi Modi Street.

The smiling faces of Prabhu and Ellis made every visit worthwhile. Ellis, a tall, well-built man, would often talk about his son Andre's cricket pursuits at St Mary's. Andre was part of the school's cricket squad that defeated Sachin Tendulkar's Shardashram Vidyamandir in the 1988 Giles Shield final. The tradition of gentlemanly behaviour continued at People's Book House. Krishnakumar, the kind, elderly man who sat behind the counter, had a sound grasp of politics and sociology. If you were a chess player, you could also find books on the subject there. From Cawasji Patel Street, Sir PM Road was not far away. That was where the city's finest bookshop was housed - Strand! Its patriarch TN Shanbhag would invariably be there, ensuring that every customer was attended to and advised on books covering whatever subject they were interested in.

Kindness was infectious in that establishment, and it is safe to presume that Shanbhag was the source of it. You did not have to be somebody important to be treated with respect. Salesmen received the same consideration as customers. I remember Mahale and Pravin, always active and alert, selecting the right titles from the samples in our briefcase - books he knew would interest his customers. Payments were never delayed, either.

For some reason, I did not have to visit Kitab Khana during those days. I do drop in occasionally now, and I find that its staff are just as courteous as the bookshop attendants of yesteryear. No Fountain Area round would have been complete without a visit to Smoker's Corner bookshop at the far end of PM Road. I rarely went there to sell books; more often than not, I went to buy them. Sulaiman Botawala would usually be there, chatting with his friends and recommending the best bargains. He would leave us amazed at how back issues of The Cricketer magazine could be bought for just a few rupees, or how a hardback of Test Match Cricket: A Personal View by Tony Greig was always available for Rs 30.

Thankfully, South Mumbai still retains some of its old-world charm when it comes to books - its rich literary and commercial history, reflected in the bookshops and the people who ran them.

mid-day's Editor Clayton Murzello is a purist with an open stance. He tweets @ClaytonMurzello

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