Jaipur Literary Festival 2015: A story comes full circle

 It must be the place! I am sure of it this time.  It must also be the people!  They make the place! What about the biting cold and the ice like drizzle? Can’t be ignored. Along with all this it is also the fact that writing and love happen in isolation; removed from daily chaos, mundane routine and a cluttered mind.

I have been counting down for the Jaipur Literary Festival 2015. It’s become a favourite from the time I visited it in 2012 which was my first time exposure to the festival in the pink city which huddled up its people in the month of January! The first thing I remember about the visit is its vibrancy; of Jaipur and of  JLF. They reflected upon each other. The traditional Rajasthani warmth softened the bone biting cold to an extent. Coming from a land which we consider as God’s own, hospitality was taken for granted by us. But what I experienced in Jaipur was something else; it beat it all. Right from the rickshawalla and the tea vendor to a passerby who stops to point you to the right direction everyone has a silent yet stately courtesy worn on their sleeves. Could it still be the trickle of erstwhile royalty?

Having been floored right at the onset with the place and its people, I wasn’t too surprised to find that the literary festival did just the same to me and much more. But that is already the story for a book and it is in this context that JLF comes in to the frame in 2015

It is strange how the journey characterizes you and molds itself to suit the situation. While my first trip in 2012 gave me the bliss of solitude this one came along with the laughter and mirth of friends who have walked a long way with me. It was the time for celebration and we were there for the launch of our book, Literally Yours.  Writing, for me, is a very private affair and shows me at my expressive best. But if you were to ask me, I did not want the experience of this trip to find its way on to an A4 sheet. I wanted to keep it all to myself, not talking or writing about it much, but retaining the smile that the fest left me with, within.

I who dreaded the sound of the tapping keys on a keyboard cannot do without it anymore. All my writing happens here in this private space that we share; the screen and I. It is thus a matter of habit with everything. From the traditional pen and paper to the current Word 2013 which spoils you rotten. I who wrote for myself, started sharing my work with those around me. The trepidation and the anxiety of being judged and critiqued reigned strong but my biggest worry was whether I could connect with those who read me. Communication in its basest form is just that and if I achieve it I can tread the path with a stronger grip.

 We connected and that is what brings me here today.

All through the journey of the book the misty aura of the Diggi palace and the charm and colours that surround it kept the ink flowing. There were times when the keys on the laptop would refuse to budge and others when the thread of the story just got all over the place making us struggle to get out of its tangles. . . JLF was grease for blocked keys and detangler of knotty plots.

Finally  it was all done and I was back again amongst books and lovers and book lovers.

It was indeed a surreal experience to be on the other side of the page this time; to be the ‘speaker’ as against the ‘participant’. Chetan and I met at the hotel where he was staying, on the day of the book launch and I could sense that something was different from the way we met the last time here. For one, the wide eyed open mouthed south Indian woman gulping in all of the pink from the Pink city had sobered down during her second visit. And then there was our book; which grew in strength and beauty in this magical soil. I remember the earnest conversations over grabbed cups of tea irrespective of the times of the day the last time we were here and the thrill at already seeing the completed book in front of us while we were still talking about it. The story engulfed us and we lived it day in and out. We dreamt what we wrote and we wrote what we dreamt, if I were to play with Van Gogh’s lines.

Getting back home from Jaipur we sat down to write our story and exactly  two years later Literally Yours was waiting for its most opportune moment to announce its entry in to the literary world. The magic of Jaipur and JLF spread its reach to the lives of Lipi and Lekh and the book is thus a tribute to love and literature. When we were asked to launch the book at the Jaipur Literary Fest in 2015 the feeling was not of surprise but of ecstasy. We had finally come full circle; along with Lipi and Lekh.

This time, when I walked in to the wide spread arms of Jaipur I felt the same sense of elation in me all over again. This time, along with the two of us there were four others who joined in the journey of Lipi and Lekh. This time, JLF was to show us the other side of the page.

Our speeches were framed in the crispy cold bubbles of the Jaipur winter and we caused a fog around us. The lack of familiarity between people who meet for the first time dissipated in the first few bubbles.

The big day dawned and the partially shared rickshaw ride from the Air Force mess with a cloth merchant all the way to his shop in one of the never ending winding lanes somewhere between civilization and the very beginning of it was material for a post card. Finally the destination arrived and the interlude was soon forgotten as we reentered the lives of Lipi and Lekh, getting them ready to take them back to JLF.

Going through the pages of our book, reliving the journeys of our characters, reading them out to a small group of friends around amongst coffee cups at the hotel  … the day had a brilliant start and we were soon on our way to the Diggi palace.  An unexpected drizzle that stopped by for a visit changed all plans and we found ourselves chasing organisers to find out where we would read. The swift walk around the palace environs led us finally to the Writers’ lounge; a place which I had only heard of and written about but never seen or been to. I felt like I was back in our book; being Lipi and walking alongside Lekh; looking awestruck at all the famous writers: there was Girish Karnad enjoying his siesta with his feet up on the chair; Javed Akhtar dignified and aware of the aura that he carries around him; Shashi Tharoor all charm and suave.. I was Alice in Wonderland. Finally it was time for us to go; the moment was here. Gracious, dignified and top –to- bottom elegant Mrs. Jyotika Diggi, the owner of Diggi palace, launched our book in her home; which was also, incidentally, the breeding ground for Literally Yours.  Before I met, I was unaware of how apt she fit in to our picture. And then I got to know. We were privileged. To me Mrs. Diggi was appealing for even more reasons. She is the quintessential modern Rajasthani lady, who is draped in the flavor of Rajasthan, inside out.  

Finally on stage and suddenly everything else dwindled in significance; all that mattered was announcing Lipi and Lekh; letting them on to their playground where they got together.

An engaged audience laughing and nodding at the excerpts from the book that were read out, made our day. At the end of it amidst a decent applause and smiles from our precious friends that dazzled Char Bagh, which had looked a bit drab in the rain that left its mark, we were stopped by reporters and a radio jockey who were intrigued by the story and wanted to talk more. The interviews and the signing of autographs and posing for pictures completed the picture of a dream that we let out in to the space and found its way in to the pages of a book.