My brief encounter with an 80-year-old bookstore in Bengaluru
"We just wants books to reach more people."
Time really slows down at Select Book Shop.
This 80-year-old bookstore sits quietly in the lanes of Bengaluru's busiest Brigade Road. The cab driver dropped me on the street, saying, "The cab can't go further, but take a left, and your location will be in front of you."
But it wasn't — I walked across a tapri, an office, a shopping complex and assumed I was lost. Just as I was convinced I should leave, I spotted a brick-red well with an orange signboard saying Select Book Shop. Sanjay, a third-generation owner, welcomed me in and asked my whereabouts.
The moment you enter the bookstore, the city's chaos dissolves into silence — like crossing a threshold into another world. Books are found in every possible corner of Select. They're scattered across rickety wooden shelves, stacked in wobbly towers on the floor, and perched even on stools. It's a maze of literary treasures with stories taking over every available inch of space, waiting to be discovered.
When he asked me what sort of books I read, I said everything. But that I was looking for fiction and history. "The fiction is here, and when you're done here, I'll show you where the history section is," he said as he switched on the light. I walked into a small room with more books — the likes of Jane Austen and Ian McEwan rubbed shoulders with Girish Karnad, Aldous Huxley, and Orhan Pamuk. Some books, perhaps too old to have survived all these years, are restored with different covers and handwritten labels.
"Since you're visiting from out of town, we can always ship the books to your place if you can't fit them all in your luggage. Just pick whatever catches your eye!"
And many books caught my eye. So I asked how he sources these books and was told they mostly come from his network of old customers and acquaintances. But that it's getting tougher as people don't prefer to part with their books.
After picking fiction, I was duly sent upstairs to hunt for books on history, religion, and some magazines and encyclopedias. While the ground floor is a maze, this floor is something else. For those who believe in the element of discovery, it'll take years to browse this room. This glorious little room with a window overlooking the street.
On this floor, you find art and framed newspaper features, (nearly) ceiling-high bookshelves, and artefacts that blend with the atmosphere. Here, I found books such as Robert Ludlum's The Road to Omaha, M. Chalapathi Rau's Jawaharlal Nehru, Ramachandra Guha's India after Gandhi, Irving Wallace's The Chapman Report, and quite a few textbooks on architecture, finance, and world history.
There's a reason why Ramachandra Guha wrote about this bookstore.
In his words 👇
In this period, it has served as a consoling constant in a state of flux. Tiled bungalows give way to skyscrapers of glass and concrete; pensioners are supplanted by software nerds. But the persistence of this little civilized bookshop through three generations assures me that some parts of Bangalore will never change.
The likes of Guha and Ruskin Bond have frequented this place. So, yes, there's a legacy there. But a conversation with Sanjay is far more enriching. Talking to him about books, the reading community, and the art of writing is sacred. And I recommend it to everyone visiting the store.
As I settled the bill, he asked, "Are you a writer?" I flatly said, "No, I'm not." And then I realised I was one. I am one. But something about being in this space, knowing how many celebrated authors stood where I was then standing, made me hesitate to claim that title.
"I do write sometimes, but I intend to write more," I feebly added. He nodded, and we spoke more about books. You know how there are places that can make you feel entirely at ease but also make you slightly intimidated? No, I'm not referring to "home" in a traditional sense, but something about them tugs at your heart. Like they're quietly inviting you to keep coming back — until one day, before you know it — they become your little sanctuary.
✨ Essential reads
American Pride and Power by Ramachandra Guha (about Select Bookshop)
A Cartography of Letters by Norah Rami
A love letter to curiosity by The Alipore Post
Physical media is officially back by Kate Lindsay (edited by Nick Catucci)
So, that’s it from me. I’ll hopefully swing by your inbox now and then, sharing stories of Indian small businesses. 👋
I moved out of Bangalore around 2 years ago and Select was like a second home to me :) Every time I would find a new section full of gems that would go up my pile of ‘books I never thought I would read but here I am with a 1982 magazine about witches and cars.’ Thank you so much for giving me this little moment to be with it again :) lovely read!
What a lovely read!