Thumping , the resolute, resonant strains of folk singers in the background, colourful tents and even more colourful clothes…like the awestruck junta in a Superman movie who wonder ‘is it a bird, is it a plane’ it won’t be far off the mark to wonder — ‘is it a page six party?’ ‘Is it a Fashion week’? Na.
Heads up, the Jaipur Literature Festival, now into its sixth season. Fest Organiser William Dalrymple declared most inclusively on Day Two — “We’re equally happy about whoever attends our Festival, whether they’re wearing Fab India kurtas or Dior sunglasses” and from the looks of it he was taken very seriously indeed. Everybody is invited.
It has taken certainly taken me an effort of will to get here on Day Three. Flights to the Pink City are next to impossible, the travel agent tells me the fest is the culprit. The morning has been agony, I have been offloaded from an early morning flight (no fault of mine, but the mood, courtesy a ‘routine spot check’, is tense), and have cajoled my way into an afternoon one (five hour wait at the airport between).
Two days to Republic Day, and the airport is a fortress, checks all through and then again. A sniffer dog trots by, casual air as if such days are normal. Sleepless for most of the night, I ask if there has been reason for this stringent security all of a sudden. I am told no, but the security is the most thorough I’ve seen.
Anu Agarwal, erstwhile B-Town starlet is on the flight. Could she be going to the fest? It’s possible… the whole world seems to be heading here. I, too, am determined to be here, soak in for myself the spirit of the ‘literary world’.
When I finally get here, just in time for the Coetzee address, might I add, I realize I might have to wait a while for a pure ‘literary’ experience. Because along with the heavyweight authors are the pretty people, from Mumbai, Delhi, Goa. Some of B-Town is here, and fashionistas, in bandhni sarees and silver jewellery…it’s a fashion parade (or a parade of individuality) that any fashion week would be envious of.
Does everybody here read? Are they really interested in literature? In writing? It’s a rhetorical question. As Chetan Bhagat showed us, you don’t need to write heavy-duty prose to be popular. And everybody here needn’t ‘get’ literature it seems. It’s okay from the looks of it to just get with the programme…. Dress up, celebrate, join the jamboree, because really the mood is one big party. Let the music play on…
