"The Greatest Literary Show on Earth" - Jaipur Lit Fest 2019 Day 1
“The greatest literary show on Earth”
This is the tagline of the annual literary fest organized at the Diggi Palace in Jaipur (Rajasthan, India), of which I attended the 12th edition.
I had been meaning to go there for many years, and finally chance and circumstance combined to make it possible. I arrived in the city the evening before, in a rented car out of New Delhi, to stay with extended family.
The next morning, in the cold air of Jaipur’s winter, I got myself a general pass and walked into the Diggi Palace. Volunteers, security guards, ushers, participants, guests, delegates, all thronged the entryway. But there was a warm energy in the place. This early on the first day, everyone that was here really only wanted to be here. It was not time for the casuals yet. Bonhomie was in the air.
The morning began with a musical performance by Shruthi Vishwanath and musicians. Singing in multiple languages, she welcomed the guests who walked into the Front Lawns. Her voice rose into the cool morning air and blessed everything it touched.
We were a distracted lot, making silver-tongued introductions, excusing ourselves constantly, looking for other companions and other chairs and other viewpoints. But the musicians wove threads of magic that pulled our attention to the stage, locking us in slack-jawed stupor.
Then it was time for some words.
“We are witnessing a UNIQUE MOMENT in literature in India”
The organizers of JLF introduced one another and presented their vision of the festival — all the things it had been in the past, and all the forms it would assume in the future.
Guest speaker Sir Venki Ramakrishnan stressed on the harmony of science and arts, and urged better understanding between the two.
I was right in place for the one I wanted to attend. The great Indian poet-lyricist Gulzar sat before us, just a few feet in front of me, and spoke about his early work, his influences, and the act of being a parent.
During the final minutes of the session, I snuck out to the Mughal Tent. The next session on my list was about the Puranas. It was hosted by Mr. Pushpesh Pant, a historian and TV-personality I admired greatly, and Bibek Debroy, an eminent scholar who, like most scholars, couldn’t believe how little ordinary people understood his subject.
In the afternoon, I wandered into a session on One Indian Literature. Everywhere I wanted to go was full, and the crowds had really piled in post-lunch. I should have seen this coming, but then I had never seen this at all. I found a good seat in the Samvad tent, and then it began to rain.
The session confused me. The terms of the discussion were ill-defined, and the panelists focused on translations and language as the sole means of unifying Indian literature. I could not even understand why anyone wanted to do such a thing. But the rain interrupted proceedings, and then the discussion resumed without mics for a while, then back with the sound system. One hour can be a little short for some topics, and even moderators can be rusty on Day 1. I enjoyed a lot of the words, and agreed with many of the arguments. The rain grew to a storm, then abruptly was completely gone.
It was very cold though. The day was done. I headed home, where my aunt was already working on rain-appropriate snacks. Good day.