The poet and bookseller of Gariahat

This is a poem displayed in a stall run by book vendor, Mohan Das, in Kolkata's Gariahat market. Incidentally, he also happens to be the poet who wrote that verse and many others. 

"Nijer kaajke bhalobasha khubi joruri ar amar jonne amar prothom bhalobasha hochchhe amar boi"  [It is very important to love your work, and my books are my first love],” says the 52-year-old who goes by the pen name, Mani Mohan Das.

Despite having a bachelor's degree in commerce from Heramba Chandra College, Mohan was unable to land a formal job. This pushed him to start selling books and magazines on the streets of Gariahat about three decades ago.

Despite his unplanned entry into the profession, he has never thought of changing it. “It [book selling] is not just a way to earn money. It involves a lot more than that,” he says. “For me, books are a passion.”

Located at a busy intersection near the Golpark area in South Kolkata, Mohan’s book stall is one of the roughly 300 in the Gariahat market. Snacks, fruits and vegetables, fish, clothes, books and toys are some of the many things sold in this market, which is a collection of both permanent shops and makeshift stalls.

Mohan says temporary stall vendors like him and shop owners on this street are like family. “People have a misconception that shop owners do not want us [street vendors] here, but that is not always true,” he says. They share lunch with each other and are friends.

Mohan's days are long. He opens his shop at 10 a.m. and shuts it at 9 p.m. – that's 11 hours of work every day of the week. Although he enjoys the nature of the job, he is unhappy with the money he makes from it, as it cannot support him and his family. "Kokhono taka pai kokhono abar ek bela khabarer motono taka paina"  [Sometimes we make money. Other times, we don’t earn enough for a meal],” says Mohan, who provides for a family of five. 

Despite the precarity of his livelihood, he tries not to lose hope, “I do not fear that anyone can move us from here. We [the street vendors] are many and our livelihoods depend on this street. It is not easy to remove us.” But there have been attempts.

“I had no idea what to do,” says Mohan, remembering the 1996 ‘Operation Sunshine’, an undertaking by the state government and municipal authorities to evict hawkers from pavements in certain parts of the city.

During this time Mohan was a member of the Communist Party of India (Marxist) – member party of the Left Front alliance then in power in West Bengal. He recalls going to the party office and urging the officials to not go through with their plans, but the authorities were unwilling to negotiate. He was among the lucky ones and was able to retrieve his goods before the government and municipal authorities demolished most of the hawkers’ shops in the area.

“Ajkal ar keu boi porena. [These days no one really reads books].” Mohan claims he has lost a number of customers to Google. “Now we have this thing called Google. People search for the exact information they require and get just that.” The Covid-19 pandemic only made things worse.

“I never closed my shop willingly before, but during Covid I had no option but to sit idle.” Mohan used up all his savings during the pandemic. Speaking to PARI in January 2023, he said, “Business is at an all-time low.”

Mohan believes a government-issued vending licence would help reduce the uncertainty of his business. He applied for a licence five years ago but is yet to receive it. In its absence, he feels the only security he has comes from being a member of the hawker’s union, for which he pays Rs. 50 every week. This also ensures him a spot in the market to set up shop.

Poem translated from Bangla by Joshua Bodhinetra