The crisp February air carried the scent of possibility as I stepped off the train in Kolkata. My third-year exams were a recent memory, replaced by the promise of a glorious two-week holiday. Kolkata was a planned stopover, a chance to reunite with Mom, who was already there for a friend’s daughter’s wedding and her routine checkups at Apollo Gleneagles. Once her medical appointments were done on February 2nd, a much-anticipated plan was set in motion: an afternoon immersed in the vibrant chaos of the Kolkata Book Fair (কলকাতা বই মেলা). Adding to the excitement, my friend Manali joined our little expedition, transforming it into a delightful trio of bookish enthusiasm.

The fairgrounds, “Milan Mela” near Science City on the bustling E.M. Bypass, buzzed with an energy that was palpable even before we entered. Two years prior, a return journey from the spiritual embrace of the Kumbh Mela had cruelly coincided with the fair, a literary heartbreak I was determined not to repeat.

The International Kolkata Book Fair holds a special place in the hearts of book lovers, a unique event that prioritizes the general public over wholesale distributors. Its recognition by the International Publishers Association in Geneva speaks volumes about its significance in the world of literature and its celebration of India’s deep-rooted reading culture. And the sheer scale of it – the largest book fair globally in terms of visitor numbers – was a fact that hummed with anticipation.

The statistics alone were staggering. The previous year had witnessed around 2 million visitors over twelve days, with a remarkable Rs 200 million ($3.25 million) worth of books changing hands. Globally, it stood as the third-largest annual book fair, a proud testament alongside the giants of Frankfurt and London.

This year, Great Britain held the prestigious title of the focal theme, and the fair sprawled across five massive pavilions, each a treasure trove of publishing houses, both domestic and international. My limited time meant I could only conquer two of these literary kingdoms, but the experience was nothing short of enchanting.

The second pavilion offered a contrasting yet equally captivating experience, a deep dive into the heart of Bengali literature. Here, local publishing houses like Ananda Publishers and Dey’s Publishing proudly displayed their vast collections. The names of literary titans like Rabindranath Tagore and Satyajit Ray echoed through the aisles, their works nestled alongside contemporary Bengali authors, a testament to the enduring power of their storytelling. This pavilion was a vibrant celebration of language and culture, a true paradise for those who find solace in the written word. The sheer variety on offer was astounding, a testament to the fair’s commitment to catering to every conceivable reading preference.

But no Indian fair is truly complete without the tantalizing aroma of street food mingling with the scent of old paper and fresh ink. The gastronomic section of the Kolkata Book Fair was a delightful assault on the senses. A vibrant array of stalls beckoned with promises of culinary delights. Familiar names like Domino’s and Kathleen stood alongside local favorites like Laziz, Roll’nRoll, and Alibaba.

The air was thick with the aroma of sizzling fish fry, the savory scent of chicken rolls, and the spicy kick of prawn chili. Biryani simmered in large pots, its fragrant steam mingling with the sweet perfume of various flavored patishapta – those delectable Indian-style crepes filled with sweet coconut or other fillings.

The sheer variety was overwhelming! Mom and Manali, usually quite decisive, found themselves in a delightful dilemma, their eyes wide with the possibilities. Amidst the tempting aromas and bustling crowds, a tall figure on stilts, adorned with a menu card, stood as a quirky ambassador for one of the food stalls, his towering presence a unique invitation to indulge.

Beyond the books and the food, the fair offered glimpses into the world of art. Talented artists sat patiently, transforming ordinary objects into unique works of art. Bottles bloomed with vibrant colours, clothes became canvases for intricate designs, and other reusable items were given a new lease on life through creative expression. This initiative was not only visually captivating but also a powerful reminder of sustainability and the beauty that can be found in repurposing.

Despite the four-plus hours we spent wandering through the pavilions, the time seemed to evaporate like morning mist. Each turn revealed new literary treasures, each stall held the promise of a new adventure waiting to be discovered. My arms grew heavy with the books I had acquired, a tangible reminder of the stories I would soon lose myself in. Yet, a pang of longing remained – a wish that I could have explored every nook and cranny, every single one of those five vast pavilions. The impending journey back to Ranchi the next day cast a gentle shadow on my exploration.

I couldn’t help but miss my dad, a fellow bibliophile whose presence would have undoubtedly amplified the joy of the experience. I pictured him browsing the history section, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of discovery.

Leaving the Kolkata Book Fair felt like stepping out of a dream. The vibrant energy, the sheer volume of books, the tantalizing food, and the artistic flair had created an atmosphere of pure magic. It was an exhilarating experience, a testament to the enduring power of literature and the joy of shared passion.

As the words of Groucho Marx echoed in my mind,

Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read,

I knew this day, lost in the literary labyrinth of the Kolkata Book Fair, was a testament to that very sentiment – a celebration of the cherished companionship of a good book. And I left with a firm resolution: to return next year, with more time and an even greater appetite for the wonders that awaited within those hallowed pavilions.