Chai With Priya When books represent bravery

If there’s one thing that I want to achieve in this lifetime, that is to write a book.

For years I’ve come up with different plots and charted out how I want the story to read, and at the last minute deleted all my paragraphs, torn up all my pages and filed the idea away in my brain.

Though it is something that I have yearned for, I haven’t worked up the courage in order to do so.

But I have always had the deepest admiration for anyone who has had the courage to write a book, get it published and put it out there in the public sphere.

And what better way to celebrate writers and their achievements than the Gibunco Gibraltar Literary Festival that is taking place this week.

As an avid reader, it has always been an enjoyable way to feed my thirst for more books while also learning a thing or two.

Since 2013, I may have attended over 100 talks and ran into some of the people I admired in the area of Main Street between the Garrison Library, the Convent and City Hall.

Many of the talks were for work, and over time I may have forgotten most of it, but there have been a handful that have really stood out for me through the years.

Actress, travel writer, and the woman who brought Indian cuisine into Western kitchens, Madhur Jaffrey, was invited to come along to the Literary Festival in 2014.

I already had tickets to attend her talk at the Convent and was looking forward to hearing her speak.

This was a time when I was on a small career break, not quite sure whether I was going to stay in Gibraltar or try and build a career in journalism somewhere else in the world.

I was sat in the office doing some work in my family’s supermarket and in walks Mrs Jaffrey with her partner at the time.

I jumped out of my seat and went to attend her, fulfilling all her requests for Indian foods and masalas, while my brother and I spoke to her about how our family came to live in Gibraltar and where to go to eat here locally and what to eat.

Ms Jaffrey kindly posed for a photo with us after she had finished her shopping and I was still on a high when I posted it on my Instagram and Facebook for all to see.

Kavita Puri, a BBC journalist and broadcaster, spoke about the India and Pakistan partition in 2019.

There are many talks I have been to where I have been one of the only other guests there, but it was a pleasant surprise to see many members of the Gibraltarian Sindhi community in attendance.

I attended the talk with my late uncle, and sat with him as we heard Ms Puri share harrowing experiences of the partition, including her own father’s.

Emotions ran high as the elders from the local community shared their experiences of the partition and how they arrived on the Rock.

I was able to interview her in the run-up to the festival and had the opportunity of introducing my uncle to her as well, though he was too shy to speak of his own memories in front of an audience.

What really struck me about this talk was how little the partition has been spoken about in Gibraltar, and how what little is known is passed down from one generation to the next.

Since my uncle’s passing just over four years ago, his experiences of the partition are still shared within the family.

I consider myself to be very privileged to have had a very close relationship with him.

When I speak of my uncle Anand and his life, I’m always told: “That’s a great story.”

But then I worry I won’t be able to do him justice.

It’s one thing writing news pieces and opinion pieces for the Chronicle, but I question whether I really have the discipline to write a book.

In all my years of covering the Literary Festival talks, I ask authors about their writing process and how they find the time to write their books.

Many have spoken about dedicating an hour in the morning, others have dedicated two hours after their kids have gone to bed, some say they went away for a week or two, shut themselves off from the world and just wrote until the words started making sense.

In an interview with Dr Meenal Viz recently, she said she would write whenever she had time, a spare 20 minutes was as valuable to her as an hour or two, while pregnant and raising a young family.

And if it isn’t the discipline that I fear, it’s also the standing in front of a crowd and talking about your book, it is selling yourself to publishers and getting your name out there, it is knowing your work will be admired, but also critiqued.

It’s putting on a brave face and growing a thicker skin and making yourself vulnerable.

All of which is something that future me can deal with.

For now, I am happy to bury my nose deep in a book or to hide behind a byline.