If Kolkata had a heartbeat, it would sound like the rustle of book pages flipping in the wind, the hushed excitement of a reader discovering a hidden gem, and the collective sigh of book lovers whispering, “Just one more”. And if there were ever a place where bookworms, nostalgia chasers and incurable bibliophiles could disappear into a labyrinth of words and ideas, it’s the International Kolkata Book Fair.

As the 48th edition of this grand literary carnival bids adieu today, it leaves behind more than just dog-eared pages and coffee-stained covers. It leaves behind stories yet to be told, ideas yet to be argued over and book piles yet to be smuggled into homes under the cover of darkness—because let’s face it, we all lied when we said, “No more books this year”.

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This book fair isn’t just about selling books—it is about building a literary utopia, one stall at a time. With Germany as the theme country, the fair isn’t just another book-buying spree; it is a passport to a cross-cultural, transcontinental affair of the intellect.

This year, the fair’s streets bent to literary whimsy, naming themselves after the greats—Rainer Maria Rilke, Bertolt Brecht, Franz Kafka, Herta Müller, Thomas Mann—because, in Kolkata, even avenues understand the weight of words. And the Salil Chowdhury Ritwik Ghatak Gate, Goethe Gate and Jibanananda-Nazrul Gate weren’t just entry points; they were portals into a world where literature reigned supreme.

The fair saw an unprecedented 1,057 book stalls, each one a world unto itself, stocked with everything from first editions to dog-eared treasures, fresh releases to forgotten masterpieces. Inaugurated by West Bengal chief minister Mamata Banerjee, alongside German Ambassador Philipp Ackermann and Goethe-Institut’s Marla Stukenberg, the event was grand enough to earn Ackermann’s fitting description: “The Kumbh Mela of books”.

And, of course, there were Haso and Hasi—the fair’s official mascots—because even a festival of intellect could use a bit of whimsy.

Every Kolkata Book Fair has its own subplot, and this year’s narrative had everything—mystery, drama, action and a touch of the absurd. Among the many books launched: Salute 2, Lipiboddho-Kichu Kaj and Banglay Nirbachan o Amra—because no book fair is complete without a few titles with a political pulse. Two transformative books on vedic wisdom by Rama Prosad Banerjee—The Vedas- Wisdom and Truth for Human Emergence and Vedasnana: Satyarthir Brahmagyana Sadhan Vedapathae. Paye Paye Panchali by Birendrakumar Bandyopadhyay—a love letter to Pather Panchali, because cinema and literature are just different forms of poetry. Duhshahosher Ijara by Gautam Bhattacharya and Debarati Mukhopadhyay—for those who like their books like their coffee: dark, thrilling and impossible to put down. Abar Goyendapith by Supratim Sarkar—because Kolkata and detective non-fiction go together like adda and endless cups of cha.

Speaking of adda, in Satyajit Ray’s Agantuk, the uniquely Bengali tradition of adda is celebrated, with the protagonist asserting that such intellectual exchanges can spark remarkable ideas “at the highest level”. True to this spirit, it was during a lively adda among young publishers at the Indian Coffee House in 1974 that an audacious thought emerged—why not create Kolkata’s own version of the prestigious Frankfurt Book Fair?

Despite widespread skepticism, founders Sushil Mukherjea and Jayant Manaktala forged ahead, launching the first Kolkata Book Fair on 5 March 1976. With just 56 stalls, 34 publishers and an entry fee of 50 paisa, the event had modest beginnings. Yet, its impact was anything but small. By 1983, it had earned its first international recognition, and over the years, it evolved, incorporating thematic elements akin to its Frankfurt counterpart.

From its early days at the Academy of Fine Arts grounds to its subsequent moves to the Maidan, Milan Mela Grounds, and finally its current home in Central Park, Salt Lake, the fair has faced its share of trials. The most devastating came in 1997 when a massive fire destroyed over 1,00,000 books and claimed a life. Yet, the International Kolkata Book Fair persevered, growing into an unshakable cultural institution.

Adding a delightful surrealist subplot to the fair was a band of cosplayers, who roamed the stalls dressed as everything from Star Wars troopers to anime icons to Marvel superheroes. One such cosplayer, Arnab Mondal, a data engineer by profession, summed up the experience: “We bring fictional characters to life at the Kolkata Book Fair, promoting the art of cosplay and connecting with fellow book lovers. We became part of the magic.”

And, honestly, what’s more magical than Darth Vader picking up a Tagore anthology or a superhero browsing through Kafka’s existential crises?

With representatives from 20 countries—including the US, UK, France, Russia, Nepal, Spain, Peru, Argentina, Guatemala, Costa Rica, and, of course, Germany—the fair wasn’t just Kolkata’s love letter to books; it was the world’s love letter to Kolkata’s literary soul.

But, in the end, what makes the Kolkata Book Fair special isn’t its sheer size, or the number of books sold, or even the famous faces that grace its stages. It’s the quiet, deeply personal moments—the rediscovery of a childhood favourite, the passionate argument between two strangers over a book’s ending, the sheer delight of finding a signed copy of something you never expected to see again.

Because books don’t just belong to us—we belong to them. And here, at the Kolkata Book Fair, they always find their way back home.

Photographs by BISWAJIT GHOSHAL