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Friday April 26, 2024

Saving books — and ourselves

By Zoya Anwer
February 21, 2017

Pioneer Book House that was on verge of shutting down gets a new lease on life

Around three months ago, the Pioneer Book House was shutting down because of its diminishing sales.

The 18th century building is not hard to find because it is surrounded by landmarks. In fact, it is built on one of the oldest roads in the city, MA Jinnah Road (previously Bunder Road).

Unlike the glossy, glassy door bookstores now, the bookshop’s entrance has two open grey doors, after which lie the two-way doors to the shop.

Zafar Hussain, who is the grandson of Inayat Hussain, who had started the store, recounts the time when there used to be queues on both sides of its counter as people came to buy freshly released gazettes.

“Law students as well as others who wanted to keep themselves updated about the current policies used to gather outside this very gate even before the shop opened,” said the owner of the bookstore, which has a squeaking iron staircase leading to an entire floor dedicated to books.

Hussain, however, feels that students these days had little regard for books and were more interested in material goods like cell phones and gadgets:

“Now a law student would rather borrow a book to get by in an exam then buy a book to study thoroughly, or worse, be least bothered about the course because their money isn’t invested into it,” he regretted.

 “Our business started off in Bombay, where we had two shops in the Fort area, one of the most expensive areas in the city. Our shops stretched from one end of the road to the other because unlike shops nowadays which should be called cabins, ours were spacious,” Hussain said.

He explained that his grandfather had to open another shop in Karachi because Sindh was part of the Bombay Presidency. “At that time, I am not sure of the exact amount but he paid 10 anas as rent and post-Partition, Haji Sami, after whom the ‘Sami Chambers’ have been named, won the bid in 1975 and my grandfather continued with his shop as a tenant.”

But around five years ago, those shops were sold off, and now the fate of the Pioneer Book House rests with Hussain.

“There are no two ways to go about this. This is our business and it needs buyers to flourish or at least sustain. If people won’t buy books, how will I keep the shop running? I have other responsibilities too that I can’t set aside just to keep this shop running. Its door keeps waiting for buyers.”

The saviour

Just when Hussain was certain that he will have to sell his shop, it found a saviour - author Maniza Naqvi.

“With a sole lamp dangling, the entire store was covered in dust because I was sure of shutting down Pioneer but after I saw Maniza’s devotion, I gave it a second thought,” said Hussain.

“I’ve never seen such commitment in my life because she took a duster and a broom, and cleaned all the shelves around here. She revamped the top portion as well,” he added while pointing towards the upper floor and putting on his adjustable spectacles.

Naqvi, the author of “Mass Transit”, “A Matter of Detail”, “On Air”, “Stay With Me” and other books, remarked that the responsibility to look after bookstores laid on the readers who should buy books:

“If you want beautiful spaces to exist and survive, and if you want old book houses to not just survive but also thrive, then you must visit them regularly, support them and take care of them by buying and reading books.”

Naqvi said the the Pioneer Book House was part of the city’s heritage because it had been in this place since 1945 and belonged to the same family for the last three generations. “They [the family] rely on this business of bookselling and they’re selling products dear to us which are books. If we don’t any value for our heritage or for a beautiful space, it might be because we are ignorant of its history and beauty,” she added.

“We don’t know the history of our own streets, but familiar with the history of European streets which we may not even have visited.”

Naqvi noted that we needed to frequently visit places in our own streets that were filled with so much beauty and purpose and alienation from history and heritage would land us nowhere.

“But we don’t even make the effort to walk on our streets and admire them How can we value something that we don’t even know exists?”

Speaking about creating a market for buyers, Hussain observed that piracy was a menace but many a time people bought those books because the original ones were far too expensive.

“During Bhutto’s era, we had the National Book Foundation which sold Grey’s Anatomy costing Rs450 for Rs80; and there wasn’t any compromise on quality but alas we choose to hang those who try to benefit us.”

Lamenting the dearth of publishing houses in the country, Hussain reminded that the existing ones were publishing curricula or non-fiction books while book houses had to rely on Indian publishers for books filled with information about various subjects. “It seems as if people have stopped transferring their knowledge onto books. These bookshelves are full of books authored by Indian writers even covering subjects such as the science behind weaving, while it is very difficult to find something similar by a Pakistani author.”

Hussain said people who were serving the justice system would not consult or buy books if the judges were not up for sale. “When buying justice becomes a fad then how can we expect people to have any regard for law books?”

A customer looking for an invoice registry enters and starts looking around as the pink page register gets stamped with dates, soon to be followed by a man looking for a particular law clause in a book he intends to buy.

“Had he told me about the clause, it would have barely taken me minutes to find the book because this is our specialty.  We know the law thoroughly hence people all over the city send people to us if they’re unable to find certain books,” said Hussain.

The customer recounted his own experience as to how he remembered the shop from his days as a joint secretary for a group at the Khaliqdina Hall some 20 years ago.

Hussain said he was 18 years old when his father had asked him to clean each book and arrange it. “I started reading those books and soon I understood enough law to start looking after the shop,” he added.

He smiled when asked about his final decision about his shop’s fate. “Nothing is instant. The 21st Century or 2K caused a setback to our business as instead of rising like K2 it went down fast like a 2K bus,” he quipped. “But I am hopeful that things will change for the better.”