Sahir woke up earlier than he usually did. His wife wondered, "He must be disturbed of sleep and probably can't sleep again", thinking so she slipped into sleep again. She then woke up only when Sahir tapped her slightly. He was dressed in freshly pressed white shirt and a blazer, the coat which he had bought for special occasions. "I'm going to the literary festival. I'm participating in the discussion there. It is a big festival, there will be writers like from across the country from all languages, not just English. I'm carrying a few copies of my book will give them to any one who wants to read. I shouldn't be late. Don't wait for me I will be late. ", he said as he walked out of the house carefully closing the door. Neena was not surprised, she has been a witness to his enthusiasm for literature all her life. Hailing from humble beginnings, Sahir's perseverance helped him get his education through a lot of difficulties. She had always admired his strong stance on ideology. The day his book was published was a big day for him, that a renown writer had appreciated it and volunteered to write a foreword was something Sahir was very proud of.
He couldn't get the bus in time and he was slightly delayed from the scheduled time when the festival was to begin. Sahir proudly entered the arena of the literary festival. The program had started, there were people moving from one stage to the other. In one corner, several youngsters flocked a film song writer to get the books autographed. Sahir sat in the audience of one of the arena's where a discussion on literary fiction vs. the best sellers was about to begin. He sat in the first row with a few copies of his book by his side.
There was quite a heated discussion or so it was portrayed. "There are a few authors who know the names of all the staff of the different book stores and sends them sweets on the day his book is released. He says, there are hundreds of books it is these guys who decide which book will be placed on the front shelf", said an author trying to show how she didn't indulge in all this. "I still don't have a facebook page but I write my books and there are people who read them", said another. "But I don't think anyone wants there books not to be sold. Then why this antagonism against the best sellers", said a best selling author. "The best sellers get all the attention from the sales team and the literary books have only the publisher to support them, it becomes the publisher's baby", said another publisher trying to show how he championed the cause of "good" books.
"Best sellers are good. Contrary to what you thought I would say. They are needed for the publishers to make money so that books like ours survive", said a "literary" writer.
"What about the language books, we have some amazing literature in the Indian languages, some how they are never counted in this race"
"Isn't there a space for all kinds of books. Shouldn't we move ahead of all these categorizations and work towards an inclusive space .........", so went the discussion and the stage was opened for questions.
Sahir raised his hand "I'm a writer. My book has been appreciated by the literary circle. Who can tell what is a best seller? May be my book is there in the library of famous people....", he was still talking.
The moderator on the stage interrupted him, "Sir we are running out of time... your point is taken"
"I don't know where these people come from, can't even speak proper English. Did you look at the way he was dressed", she muttered to the others on the stage in a low voice.
Sahir silently escaped into oblivion, he felt as if everyone was staring at him, as if everyone was laughing at him, his books still lie there on the chair as he hurried out of the place.
