Rosalyn D'Mello: Opening new chapters in my book

So there I was looking for Margaret Atwood wishing I were a better stalker She had probably been swallowed by an aerobridge What a story it would have made me a debut writer pursuing Atwood on the brink of her departure to hand her a copy of my book As I accepted defeat and began to walk back to where my partner was waiting I thought to look more closely at the destinations being advertised by the gates around me I looked at the Air India counter it read New Delhi to Heathrow Maybe Atwood was taking a connecting flight from London to Toronto With renewed enthusiasm I made my way up to the two men manning the deskSince A Handbook For My Loverrsquos release in December it has amassed a lovely anthology of stories around its form Representation PicThinkstockldquoDid you happen to see a distinguished looking woman with a silver crop of hairrdquo I askedldquoJust give us a name Marsquoamrdquo one man saidldquoMargaret Atwoodrdquo I saidHe keyed in her name as I waited in suspenseldquoShersquos already boarded her flightrdquo he said ldquoShersquos travelling business classrdquoldquoDamn Is there any way you can get this book across to herrdquo I askedldquoIrsquom sorryrdquo he said ldquoWe are not authorised to do thatrdquo he repliedldquoWhy Itrsquos just a bookrdquo I pleadedldquoSorry Marsquoam it could be a security riskrdquo he saidI smirked at the thought of my book being perceived as a dangerous threat to societyldquoWhat if another passenger agreed to give her the bookrdquo I asked ever resourcefulldquoThat would be between you and the other passengerrdquo he advisedI looked around there was a woman probably in her late twenties who was about to hand over her boarding card and make her way into the aerobridgeldquoHirdquo I said ldquoAre you on this flightrdquo I askedWhen she confirmed I asked her if she could possibly give a copy of my book to AtwoodldquoShersquos this legendary writer shersquos travelling business class all you have to do is give her this bookrdquo I saidldquoBut how will she know who its fromrdquo the angel of deliverance asked ldquoMaybe you should sign itrdquoSo I did I wrote ldquoFor Margaret Atwoodrdquo and I signed my nameThe angel soon disappeared Hours later when I landed in Kolkata and was art gallery hopping my editor friend Simar a fellow Atwood lover texted me to say she had tweeted about my book and referred to me as an Indian Anais Nin The thought of my book nestled between her fingers the redvelvetcupcakecoloured edges being thumbed over as she leafed through the pages thrilled me to no extentItrsquos fascinating how the physical object that is the book assumes a life force of its own in the hands of unknown readers Since A Handbook For My Lover was released in December it has amassed a lovely anthology of stories around its form A friend in Mumbai told me hersquod read half of it and was deriving great pleasure from each page when one day when he was hoping to resume reading he found his signed copy missing from his shelf ldquoSomeone had stolen itrdquo he told me all aghastLast month when I was in Mumbai for an event a young woman came up to me and said shersquod read the book because a few weeks ago when she was on vacation shersquod met an older man who loaned her his copy He wanted her to read it and then return it to him so that the act of returning would ensure a second encounter She asked me to sign it for himJust yesterday I received the most heartwarming letter from a young man in Pune who had read my book with a pencil in hand and had made extensive markings across its expanse I asked him to indulge me and send me photographs of said pages He did and it was amazing to behold how his readerly intervention had enhanced the book and engendered an act of creation in itself Another reader had actually lsquorescuedrsquo my book from a yard sale It was a signed copy that had been addressed to a famous photographer who either deliberately or inadvertently gave it away This reader reviewed my book on Goodreads and in doing so made this secondhand copy her ownIf language is what binds us as a species then books are like talismans They emanate from the author and then exist outside of her purview Henry Miller speaks divinely of the ritual of closing the book when you finish it and how in doing so you continue the act of creation ldquoSuddenly it becomes clear to you that when God made the world He did not abandon it to sit in contemplation mdash somewhere in limbo God made the world and He entered into it that is the meaning of creationrdquoConcludedDeliberating on the life and times of Everywoman Rosalyn DrsquoMello is a reputed art critic and the author of A Handbook For My Lover She tweets RosaParx Send your feedback to mailbagmiddaycom