random pirate confession

Once upon a time, in my misspent youth,
Dhoomketu, Marcus and I stole many books from the
International Book Fair at Pragati Maidan.
We preferred to think of it as liberation.

A fantasy lingers on since then -
There is a book I've written on display prominently at the book fair.
I pick one of them up from the shelves, admire my name on the cover, and slip it under my jacket.
A guard catches me, takes me to the stall owner.

Then I smile beningnly at both of them and say,
'What do you mean stealing? This is MY book...'
and then watch the bewildered array of reactions crossing their faces in quick and confused succession...

now, if only there was a book...

to parody Ghalib -

Humne maana ke sapne dekhna laazim hai
Par jab kitab hi na likhi, toh churaenge kya?

sigh...