48) Solo Trip Day 2: Met three most amazing women authors!

Top: Sudha Murthy
Middle: Shobha Dey
Bottom: Kiran Desai

Mornings in train start not when the sun rises but when the tea sellers ring the alarm of ‘chai garam chai’ and that is when you know it’s morning. But I was on the lower berth, and one has to keep lying until the person on the middle berth wakes up and takes it down to sit comfortably. But the girl talked with her mother late into the night and then fought with the bald uncle, too, so she was definitely not going to wake up early. I got freshened up, the train had stopped at Vadodara station, and I was reminded of my time here when I was in class 6th and Kamal Aaji had hosted us (Gujrat blog). The air was cold, and a shiver passed through me. I came inside. The bald uncle was sitting crouched because his son was also not up. Then I had a chai, the railway tea, which is more on the sweeter side, it is almost like a basundi chai. I had the morning tea while reading ‘Dollar Bahu’ by Sudha Murthy (Little did I know I was actually going to meet the author of the book I was reading , later in the day). Enjoyed watching a lot of ‘sarso ke khet.’ The bald uncle was a different personality today; he was saying this train should have a glass ceiling so that the views could be enjoyed.  

Well then, my friend was up, and we reached Jaipur. Climbed the stairs with luggage, walked on the footover bridge, clicked some videos there, and then got down. We were welcomed with a smell of cow dung, a smell I will always remember. We then booked an Uber rickshaw. After some wait, the rickshawala uncle crossed the road and came on the side where we were standing, and took our luggage and helped us cross the road, only for him to realise that we were not his ride but his neighbour's rickshaw. We hopped on our rickshaw, and Jaipur unfolded in front of our eyes. It was a cool morning in Jaipur, rickshaw rides in new cities are meditative, everything around is new and unfamiliar, it feels like a scene of a movie we are watching for the first time. 

We reached our hostel called ‘Hosteller Jaipur’. It was a beautiful hostel for young travellers, with a chessboard-like floor and aesthetic ceilings with chandeliers. And what can impress me more than a bookshelf at the reception, though the 4 days there we were like characters of a fiction novel living our dream life, where we had no time to read books. We still had a few hours to check in, so we kept our luggage at the reception and went to their rooftop cafe to have breakfast. We had matar kachori, but outside food was not allowed, so we ordered a masala tea and decided to have kachori back at the reception waiting area. The rooftop was beautiful, with a little fountain, and the sound of water made it all the more pleasing. A couple was having their breakfast at the table beside us, listening to our conversation in Marathi. The man asked us in Marathi from which part of Maharashtra we had come, and that broke the ice for us; we did not talk much, just basic questions. The masala tea came in a tin kettle and matching teacups. We adored the crockery they had and clicked pictures and videos with it. Then, finally, we had the tea, it was a delicious tea, and I believe a good tea in a new city, pretty much sets the tone for the trip.

Back to the reception, we had our kachoris, and then, we were thinking of taking a shower in the common bathroom there, so we could save up on time, and we saw the Marathi couple doing the same. They talked with us, told us about their adventurous expeditions, and their nomadic government job life. They were a young couple, so when the lady was folding clothes, I asked her if she was also a government servant. She said she was a housewife. I do not correct people otherwise, but this time around, I felt like I should, so I told her our communications teacher from Engineering taught us to never say housewife. She insisted on using the word homemaker, and so I told the lady that call yourself a homemaker, you make home, home. And after a minute of giving it a thought, she thanked me for the correction and said she would further introduce herself as a homemaker only. They were visiting Khatu Sham, and we were there for JLF, both before check-in time and in a hurry to leave. So they finally got their room, and they were generous enough to let us freshen up in their room, but the hosteller policy was against it. So we thanked them and said we will meet in the evening, if we come early, that evening never came, we didn't know their names or contact number, but they made us feel like a home away from home. After dressing up for day 1, we got our room, I took the lower bed on the bunk, and my friend took the side upper bunk. 

We locked our luggage under our beds and booked an Uber to Amer Clark's, where JLF was happening. It was a long auto ride. But we arrived in time to attend the session where Kiran Desai, the Booker-winning author, was going to have a panel discussion on ‘Where does fiction come from’, the one I wanted to listen to, so I went to the venue, where the average age of the attendees was above 60. We settled down in the best possible seats only to realise that the venue had changed. So I ran to the new venue only to realise that the event had been postponed to evening. So we headed to grab a quick lunch, had some laughing, goti soda and chilli potato. We then headed to the crossword tent, where they had a huge collection of books from all genres and authors around the world. We explored books and genres, and there I saw a chair with a poster behind it, having an illustration of books, so I sat on the chair and asked my friend to take my picture. While I was sitting there, the poster behind me was falling backwards, that is when the manager came and told me, " You want to make a national news or what by falling a poster on Sudha Murthy, and I was like what? I first thought he was joking, but then, before my eyes confirmed it my ears did, I heard her voice, and it was really Sudha Murthy sitting there casually signing copies of her book for Bibliophiles. My heart skipped a beat for real, I asked the manager how long she will been here, he said for 10-15 minutes, so I quickly went and bought a book and stood in the queue. When I reached up to her, she had the warmth of a grandmother. I touched her feet, and she was surprised as no one had done that. Then she took my copy, asked me my name, and wrote ‘To Siddhi, Regards her signature. Meanwhile, I told her I was an engineer too with a passion for writing, and she gave me my copy and gave me a blessing, saying, ‘god bless you,’ and those words still echo in my mind. Few minutes post that I felt like I was living a dream, this morning while reading ‘Dollar Bahu’ I had no clue that I will meet her today only, as her session was scheduled for tomorrow post which this was to happen, but this beautiful serendipity was insane, I must say ‘God’s plan’. 

We then sat for our first session at JLF, where Shobha De being was being interviewed by Anish Gawande. She is someone who always talks about the elephant in the room, with utmost grace and wit. Post the session, Anjali got inspired by her and bought a book, and we then stood in the queue to get it signed by her. While we were in the queue, the others were just well-dressed men discussing whether she was married or not; men will literally be men only! She was amazing, we talked, took her sign, and clicked a picture too. Now the last session that we were to attend was late in the evening, so we quickly went outside and visited the first tourist place that is ‘Patrika Gate’, it's a magnificent gate (like a huge gate structure) with a courtyard behind. Every wall and ceiling here is straight out of Pinterest. We roamed around, clicked pictures, and took videos. There were many pre-wedding photo shoots happening there. After that, we came back to Amer Clark's and made our way straight to the venue, and luckily, I got front row seats. I was so happy about it. Then slowly, slowly, the auditorium was full, and people even sat on the floor in front of the chairs. The panel discussion was commendable; it was something an amateur fiction writer must listen to. For the first time, the time just flew by, and I was sitting there taking notes like I do in a lecture, but this was the kind of lecture I wish had continued. Post the session, the authors sat down to sign the copies. I stood in the queue with a copy of ‘Inheritance of Loss' by Kiran Desai, which won the Booker in 2006. She signed the copy for me, and even took the copy of ‘The Local Tales’ from me, and graciously answered all my questions regarding writing!!

After a great day of meeting three most amazing women, Anjali and I headed to Thali and more that serve the Rajasthani Thali. We both had one thali and still could not finish it, but the choorma was my favourite!! Back to hosteller and called it a day, finally!

PS: Today, as I write this, I am physically in Madhya Pradesh, mentally in Rajasthan, living that day all over again, while Maharashtra lives in me!

Happy Reading, 

सिddhi Bhosale.