Sushil Kumar, whose bookshop, is literally a hole in the wall of Jaisalmer fort.
It was easy to miss his tiny shop within the winding lanes of the living fort, what with most shops spilling out into the street and their owners aggressively vying for your attention.
But I caught a glimpse of a man stretched out within this cramped space full of books and I had to stop and talk to him.
It was a couple of steps down into a tiny room with makeshift shelves full of dusty books. A tarp stretched out as a roof, barely illuminated by a single light bulb. Like a 'tabernae vagante' right out of a Discworld book.
Normally, I'm too awkward to start up conversations but I've been working on it this trip and there was an easy ice breaker : Books.
While I stood in the doorway and browsed (it was too small for the both of us), he told me he'd been doing this for years and he was just waiting to sell all his remaining books and wind up. His neighbour on the other hand, mentioned that he naps through most of the day, so he very rarely makes a sale.
Not to grudge a man his livelihood, yet, selfishly, I find myself wishing that he never runs out of books and the bookshop remains forever, an oasis of calm, with this quiet unassuming man at its center offering knowledge in the form of books to those who are lucky enough to chance upon it.
