In the 70s-90s we often revolved around topics like cinema, reading, the gatherings at Bindu Chowk, and the meetings held in Khasbag.
Since we were students of Commerce and Law, our letters often carried the flavor of that world — written in English at times, sometimes even in verse, and occasionally sprinkled with the language of business and law. In 2025, the famous Tapal Peti is also not in existence
Speaking of reading, how can I not talk about Karveer Nagar Vachan Mandir.
We would go there daily, even on Sundays, just as naturally as we went to school.
An old building with a spacious reading hall, rows of newspapers, and shelves brimming with books — it was a world of its own.
We always kept a list of the books we wanted to read, but half the fun lay in browsing the new books that other members brought in — and before we knew it, half an hour had slipped by.
I still remember reading Go. Na. Datar’s (Shastri’s) Pravaldweep and Kalikamurti, and Mrityunjay — all in a single sitting without a break.
From Baburao Arnalkar’s mystery novels (Kala Pahad), we moved on to Agatha Christie, Gardner’s Perry Mason, Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, Vimaldi Patwardhan’s Jeeva, and from Khandekar to Irving Wallace — our reading horizon kept expanding.
Pu La Deshpande and V. P. Kale were, of course, the very essence of our reading culture. Later, Baba Kadam and Suhas Shirvalkar made their mark too. Gurunath Naik also wrote over 1000 detective novels.
Anant Manohar, D. P. Khambete, G. A. Kulkarni, Ratnakar Matkari, Narayan Dharap, Na. S. Inamdar, V. S. Gurjar, Ranjit Desai, Shivaji Sawant, Chin. Vi. Joshi, Bal Samant, Vi. A. Buva, Vijay Pandharipande — all these names were part of that golden literary era.
Kakodkar and Bodhe too had their own devoted readers.
Among women writers, Durga Bhagwat, Sumati Devasthale, Yogini Joglekar, and Sumati Kshetramade had a strong influence on readers of that time.
In spiritual reading, I was drawn to A. L. Bhagwat’s works and the biographies of saints and sages. One book about Meher Baba had particularly touched my heart.
Some of my favorite books:
Tolstoy: The Man, Autobiography of a Yogi, The Moneychangers, Mrityunjay, Chhava, R Document, Patranjali, Kuna Ekachi Bhramangatha, Parajit Aparajit… and many others — some names may have slipped my memory, but they’ll come back in due time.
We even maintained a list of the films we watched back then.
Since we’re on the topic of libraries — Bhaskarrao Jadhav Library was another treasure trove of books; I had a membership there too.
In Khasbag, there was also a private library run by a passionate book lover, though I can’t recall his name now.
Our Commerce College library, too, had a fine collection of diverse books.
At Karveer Nagar Vachan Mandir, there was once a young and intelligent librarian. But one day, news spread that he had been dismissed for some irregularities.
That was the first time I realized — how difficult it is to truly know a person.
And not just to know someone — even liking or disliking a person has its strange ways.
Let me share a little story.
I had a close friend in school. They say there are seven people in the world who look alike.
There was one boy in Kolhapur who looked just like my friend. Whenever my friend and I had a quarrel, seeing that boy would make me angry at him too!
But when things were fine between us, seeing that same boy would make me feel as if I had met my friend again.
Such is the mystery of the human mind — how love and anger find their own peculiar ways of expression.
Those days, there was a cassette library named Zankar, run by a refined, music-loving man.
We would give him a list of songs, and he would create a personalized cassette for us.
About ten years ago, I found that old bag again — there were around fifty cassettes inside!
Each cassette was neatly themed — sometimes by singer, composer, ghazal, or film — and the owner himself helped us curate them.
Later came the age of VCDs — twenty rupees for a film!
By the early 2000s, the era of Shah Rukh and Aamir had begun.
Now, when I look back — “Cassettes and CDs — those days have passed into history.”
Libraries often hosted lecture series, and I never missed attending them.
The very mention of lectures brings to mind the commanding presence of Prof. Shivajirao Bhosale, his resonant voice still echoing in my ears.
I also used to attend kirtans (religious discourses) at temples — Shri Mehendale Buwa and Shri Afale Buwa are still vivid in memory.
These days, I read The Bhagavad Gita, Geetarahasya, Puranas, Adhyatma Ramayana, and Ramcharitmanas — and even write about them.
Earlier, my thoughts remained confined to notebooks — I would copy down passages from books.
Now, I share them through various mediums, yet the essence remains the same.
For now, I’ll pause here.
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