Saluting the lit lovers. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] It’s the people. In the 6th Jaipur Literature Festival, The Delhi Walla liked the readers more than the authors. I was moved by the earnestness of Delhi University students who came at their own expenses. I was struck by the long queue that was formed when it was author Ruskin Bond’s turn to sign his books. Since the festival is free and open to all, the five days were like the 12 days of Allahabad’s Kumbh Mela. There was a sea of people and the space wasn’t huge. During the sessions, the chairs would be occupied within seconds. People climbed on tables to have a better view, or sat down on the

The tea in the earthen cup. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] One of the many good things about the 6th Jaipur Literature Festival was the free chai served daily in the two chai breaks – at morning and at evening. Stationed at four places in Diggi Palace, the festival venue, the turbaned chaiwallas would pour the chai from a giant brass pot into little kulhars, the earthen cups. The pot would be placed on a coal-fired burner. Within minutes of them appearing, a crowd would settle around these chaiwallas, who would patiently ladle out chai – one kulhar at a time – with a bemused expression on their faces. The chai’s flavour, infused with the earthy smell of the cup,

On porn, aging and writing. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] Writing fiction in the eighties was a loner’s job. “No profiles, no photo sessions, no book tours,” said London-based author Martin Amis in the session ‘Writing the 1980s’, which he participated with New York based novelist Jay McInerney. The Delhi Walla was in the Jaipur Literature Festival. Looking slouchy and sad, Mr Amis questioned the point of ‘decade’. “You never set to write a novel to write about a decade. You’re not even aware that you’re in a decade. It’s an arbitrary idea.” Describing a time when newspapers were not thick and journalists hadn’t exhausted all the gossip mongering about the private lives of socialites and boxers, Mr Amis said,

Irvine Welsh’s ‘fuck’ fixation. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] His was the last and the shortest session in the Jaipur Literature Festival. His was also the only session in which questions ran out before the stipulated one-hour time. That’s no indicator of the cult status of Irvine Welsh, the author of Trainspotting. His tent was full and the people – mostly college grad types – were looking starry-eyed at the man as he read about sex with the disabled, excerpts from a forthcoming book that is a prequel to Trainspotting. “We human beings are programmed to failure. We’re somehow tuned to make terrible life decisions and that fascinates me,” Mr Welsh said, while sipping red Sula wine. Tonsured and a little

Listening to Sex & the City writer Candice Bushnell. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] She came, laughed, growled, flailed her arms, groped for words and gave relationship tips. The high-heeled and perfectly manicured Candice Bushnell, the author of Sex & The City, was a hit on the penultimate day of the Jaipur Literature Festival. In a session moderated by chicklit novelist Ira Trivedi, Ms Bushnell had a somewhat sobering message to Indian girls most of whom, according to Ms Trivedi, are virgins before their marriage. “Be a person first and a gender second,” said Ms Bushnell. “Experience whatever you can. Get a job, earn your money, make your choices, work hard, be disciplined … it’s a delayed gratification but it’ll

The great historical romance. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] It was pulp romance meeting the Partition. History was sexed up at the session in Mughal Tent, in which TV host Karan Thapar chatted with Alex von Tunzelmann, the author of Indian Summer. The book was a page-turner that tells three stories: of a marriage (Edwina Mountbatten and her husband ‘Dickie’), of a relationship (Edwina and Jawaharlal Nehru) and the story of events just before and after the Indian partition. Punctuated with laughs and claps – the audience included historian William Dalrymple and Delhi socialite Bina Ramani sitting on the floor – the session graduated from the titillating to the cerebral. Mr Thapar’s first question: “Were Edwina and Nehru in love?” Ms

The surprise package. [Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi] The surprise winner of the Jaipur marathon was a plump woman. At 10 am, Mughal tent in Diggi Palace hotel was slotted for authors William Dalrymple and Mahmood Farooqui. The duo was supposed to discuss their books, both of which dealt with the native accounts of the 1857 uprising. But Mr Farooqui was stuck in the traffic jam caused by the marathon - being held the same morning - and the orgnaisers quickly called author Mrinal Pandey to speak instead. It turned out that Ms Pandey’s latest book – just off from the press – was titled 1857. Originally a Marathi-language travelogue of two Brahmans who crossed to the north of Vindhayas on