City Library – Ira Pande’s Books, Noida Library by The Delhi Walla - September 15, 2011September 16, 20113 A vanishing world. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] One rainy afternoon, The Delhi Walla knocked at the door of writer and editor Ira Pande. Now 60, Mrs Pande shares her ground floor apartment in Sector 93, Noida, a Delhi suburb, with her husband, Amitabha, and thousands of books. “Our collection is the work of generations,” she says. “Amit’s parents were passionate about books. Most Hindi books you see here on religion and spirituality belonged to Jiya, my mother-in-law.” She points out a shelf that has cloth-bound copies of Ramcharitmanas, the Hindu epic by poet Goswami Tulsidas. While there are books everywhere, it is the Pandes’ study that is the hallowed haven of musty volumes; the air is thick with the memories of loved ones. One corner has a small alcove for Mrs Pande’s prayers and meditation. She points out a portrait there: “That was Jiya, my wonderful mother-in-law.” Framed family photos are arranged on the top of a bookshelf, beside the sofa. One of them is of her mother, the Hindi novelist Shivani, cradling Mrs Pande’s twin boys, Aditya and Aftab. An entire shelf on the facing wall is dedicated to Shivani’s novels. Taking out one of them (Chaudah Phere), Mrs Pande says, “This cover was designed by my son Aditya, a graphic artist.” Aditya’s childhood portrait is tucked on a central shelf. It’s torn and only the sparkling eyes are visible. Behind it are novels by Virginia Woolf and Joseph Conrad. “Both my husband and I were students of English literature,” Mrs Pande says, pointing out shelves that hold lit-crit volumes. “We had the entire set of Penguin Modern Poets that was published in the 60s and the complete works of several avant-garde novelists and poets of the sixties and seventies. Over time, we have lost many: some to borrowers and some to silver fish.” Waving towards the left shelf, she says, “My husband was a left-leaning young man and so you will find many books on social sciences and development. As a bureaucrat, he also developed a deep interest in the pedagogy of governance.” So one long shelf has, among others, Sarte’s Critique of Dialectical Reason, sandwiched between E.P. Thompson’s The Poverty of Theory and Avner Zis’s Foundations of Marxist Aesthetics. Since her husband retired in 2008 as secretary to the government of India, “… he has discovered the joys of Facebook,” Mrs Pande says, pointing at the Apple Mac that is the study’s centerpiece. “This was a retirement gift to his father by Aditya.” In the living room, the shelves are filled with old books belonging to Mrs Pande’s parents-in-law. One book prominently displayed on the counter is, however, new. India: The Cookbook, by Pushpesh Pant. The New York Times had called it one of the top 10 cookbooks of 2010. “Pushpesh is my cousin,” she says. “His house, too, is filled with books.” Mystery novels are stacked in the dining hall rack. “Guests are allowed to borrow books from here. We also know that once they are borrowed, few are returned. But I suppose we can live with some missing thrillers and detective fiction.” There are little shelves in the two bedrooms, too. Mrs Pande’s bedside books happen to be the new releases she is given for reviews. Besides editing the IIC Quarterly, a journal published by India International Centre, she writes as a freelancer for various publications. On the dressing table is a purple paperback of Shamini Flint’s Inspector Singh Investigates: Singapore School of Villainy. Where are the books that Mrs Pande’s novelist mother must have collected? “Some are with my elder sister Veena who lives in Dehradun. Her husband has started a charitable trust called the Doon Public Library there. My mother’s more personal books, such as those that were presented to her by Tagore and other famous writers, are with my other sister Mrinal, herself a book collector.” Who will inherit Mrs Pande’s collection? “I hope my children will look after them after I’ve gone. All my three sons are fond of reading,” Mrs Pande says, looking around the shelves. “I can’t bear to give them away while I’m still alive. Every book has a history. We bought each with our hard-earned money. I didn’t invest in jewellery and my husband did not buy any real estate or property except this apartment for our retirement. I suppose you can say, that all our wealth lies in our collection of books.” Ira Pande’s world Bedside comforts Books are everywhere Shh, she’s reading Beautiful cover Maa’s novels Mother’s book, son’s cover Shivani, Mrs Pande’s maa Jiya, Mrs Pande’s maa-in-law Family album The temple in the study Passion for books FacebookX Related Related posts: Mission Delhi – Saumya Pande, Noida City Library – Somini Sengupta’s Books, Nizamuddin East City Library – Nandini Mehta’s Books, Vasant Vihar City Library – Aatish Taseer’s Books, Rajesh Pilot Lane City Library – Late Leila Seth’s Private Study, Noida Sector 15A
a few months back on the late author’s wiki page i was wondering where her daughters live now and stuff like that because only one of her daughters(Mrinal Psnde) has a wiki page. i can imagine how she feels about her books.if they’ll be in good hands once she’s gone and if others will cherish her books just like she did?..i still miss the books that i gave away to my friends thinking they’ld take care of them,read them..understand them..and mow it feels weird to see them “decorated” over someone else’s shelves..waiting to be read..:(..
I am amazed by your collection Maam.Is it your love for Amitabha Sir or vice versa which made you collect so may books? I have to request Amitabha Sir to visit your lovely abode.I loved the picture of your Puja, reminds of my grandmother….who wud religiously pray every day in the morning and evening in her small Puja Room,come hale come storm. And yes! I have to borrow the the book with an interesting title” Inspector Singh Investigates”. Pranam. Ashish
Soofi’s narrative and photographs generated a deep nostalgia. I have not seen Ira in her childhood closely but Amitabha my favorite loveable brother has been fond of books ever since he learned to read. I still remember him reading a novel or a collection of poems on a Sunday the morning sitting on a cane chair in the corner of the verandah overlooking the garden, while house reverberated with Jiya’s ringing of bells in her pooja. God bless them and may their collection last for generations!