This is a love story with crisscrossing plot lines. The love of books, book shops, book smells; a special relationship with an old-fashioned shopping complex; crushes on book characters (also a fervour for certain authors, poets, genres or publishers); a passion for reading (or more specifically, standing and reading) in a corner of a book shop; a bond with other book lovers – all merge here. And like many love stories, this too is fraught with challenges and heartbreak.
Nagasri Book House opened for business in 1976, soon after the vibrant Jayanagar shopping complex was inaugurated, making the fairly new south Bangalore suburb a sought after destination. Though small, the richly packed book shop was at least 5000 sq ft in book lovers’ hearts. Surrounded on the outside by a bustling marketplace offering everything one needed and didn’t, the interiors of the quaint Nagasri Book House was a haven for book seekers. In early June 2024, Nagasri Book House permanently downed shutters as its founder, Venkatesh KV, felt the time had come to say good bye.
“I turned 70 last year and there is no one in my family or team to take forward this legacy. I wanted to close the shop while the going was good. I know the intricacies of this work and didn’t want to leave the challenges of winding it up to others,” he says. Not that it has been easy to make this choice, he adds, describing how he had to mentally and emotionally prepare himself for over a year.
For close to five decades, Nagasri Book House catered to writers, students, poets, readers all ages, academics, teachers, martial arts practitioners, doctors, mental health experts, journalists and playwrights, among others. Going by first person accounts, media reports and social media posts, this is a painful moment for book lovers from across the world, who have, sometimes, bought new bookshelves to accommodate the books they got at Nagasri (as they affectionately called the shop) or have had their university libraries abroad filled with books sourced from here. The shop was also an active social hub where you could run into your favourite playwright, poet, screenwriter or author, or just hang out and discuss political developments or books.
Early years and challenges
Venkatesh was a 23-yr-old bank employee when his uncle sounded him out on opening a book shop in the new shopping complex that was being planned. He jumped right into it. He credits his initial decade of juggling bank and book shop to his colleague Guruprasad. “Prasad and I worked together for 44 years, sharing a bond greater than brothers,” says Venkatesh. The early years were difficult and they resorted to selling “anything from a pin to an elephant,” Venkatesh says, laughing and remembering that he once sourced hairpins for a customer.
Prasad and Venkatesh opened a textbook store in 1983, in the same complex. They shut it down after a decade when other textbook shops mushroomed, offering textbooks in lieu of old newspapers. Wishing to keep up the dignity of books at all times, they shunned all “unruly methods of book selling” even if that dented their profit margins. Thereafter, they focused on selling only books in the main shop and even expanded to two other locations in south Bangalore. Those had later to be shut down due to prohibitive rentals or logistical difficulties. Nagasri Book House in Jayanagar Complex, therefore became the mainstay, a quiet brand unto itself.
In times well before the internet, Venkatesh established communication with publishers and distributors all over the world. “We were very strong on Oxford University Press titles. Also, when customers asked for books that our distributors couldn’t access, I wrote to publishers and had the books shipped. Air mail was too expensive though some customers chose to pay for it,” recalls Venkatesh. Firmly rooted in a desire to bring books home to those that sought them, Venkatesh countered the “killer instinct of multinationals” that came up in later years, with knowledge, courtesy and carefully nurtured affection – both for his customers and for books.
The shifting of the Jayanagar Complex to a new building meant barricades that imposed invisibility (“I was answering calls all day saying we still existed”) and even watching the shop’s name-board being destroyed. Business did take a blow, after which the pandemic almost knocked them down completely. They survived even that however, thanks to a customer base that refused to be swayed from their connection with the shop and its keepers’ approach to books.
Going home to books at Nagasri
Venkatesh is deeply moved by how people thronged the shop over the last three days, buying books, taking pictures with the team, sharing anecdotes and actually weeping over the shop’s closure. “I realised these were the people backing us all these years. I miss them – that lot,” he says.
While bidding farewell, longtime customers shared their favourite memories and the things they loved about the shop. A customer applauded the unique window displays that never included popular titles. “That was deliberate,” says Venkatesh. Feeling that “writing is a skill and not everyone can do it,” Venkatesh showcased books that he wanted people to know about, not only bestsellers. The books within the shop were arranged in a more practical manner however – with books for children being placed within their reach, at their eye level.
Kavya Srinivasan, a theatre-maker and performer, recalls being about five years old when she first went to Nagasri – “a seminal place” in her life. Having spent many childhood hours browsing and reading in the shop, having received lifesaving book supplies from there over the last 25 years (especially during the pandemic), and having nurtured many friendships through a love of reading that was born there, she tearfully wonders what Jayanagar Complex could possibly offer now that Nagasri is closed.
Kavya’s mother, Vasanthi Srinivasan, a professor at Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore, recalls how Kavya read above her age as a child, thanks to the book recommendations made by Venkatesh. What Vasanthi loves the most about Nagasri in her 36 years of going there is “that warmth, courtesy, love of books and a deep sense of connect with every serious reader who entered the shop.”
Indira Devi, retired Dean of Neurosurgery at NIMHANS, describes Nagasri as “anything but a regular shop.” She stresses that “it is not like ordering online either. With this shop, you feel like you are going home.” The attention paid to the reading interests of thousands of customers made this book shop stand apart, in her opinion. Her reading, book collecting and book gifting habits have been shaped closely by her three decade association with Nagasri, she says. Students and colleagues from over the world reached out to her when they heard that the shop was closing down.
Picture this: a big purchase of books has been made and the seller and buyer are disputing the discount. “You have suffered many losses and I will not accept any discount this last and final time too,” says the buyer. “You have refused discounts and supported us through the pandemic and the years after but this time, I insist. Please accept this discount as a token of our appreciation,” says the seller. Such conversations could be overheard as a book store at the heart of many love stories shut shop for good.
Charumathi Supraja is a writer, poet and journalist based in Bangalore.
