n recent years, books have been a constant companion in my life. It is due to my undying affection for old books that I have come to know many booksellers in Lahore and elsewhere. A typical bookseller once was docile and knew next to nothing about the real worth of their merchandise. These days most of them have learnt to value the jewels lying on their display tables and shelves.

When they used to be less informed, they would sell books at throwaway prices. Now, a majority of them is aware of the latest publications and their marked prices. Many refuse to deal with you if you dare haggle with them.

One can easily hazard a guess that this transition is primarily due to the proliferation of the smartphone. It’s a welcome change because booksellers also deserve to make a decent living. However, most students, as booksellers themselves acknowledge, are often short of money and find it difficult to purchase books. One visit to a university cafeteria in a day leaves most students with barely enough for their commute.

I know of ardent readers who cut spending on their meals so that they can afford to buy books. It is these men and women who grow up to be savants and write histories of nations. Such passionate readers are rare to find, though.

There are book shops I visit every week without fail. One of them belongs to Javed Masood. Born in 1970, Masood is a pukka Lahori. He has been dealing in old books for 35 years. A man of average height, a dusky complexion and a slight paunch, Masood can be spotted with a stubble and chevron moustache. His hair is visibly dyed black. His brown spectacles rest on his nose. He frequently lowers them to examine those standing close by.

Masood tells me that his first shop was on Kutchery Road. He had to vacate the place as the owners decided to give it to someone else. He then set up his shop, circa 1996, on The Mall, at the beginning of the service road where the weekly Sunday Book Bazaar is held these days.

A resident of Krishan Nagar, which is just ten to twelve furlongs from his shop, Masood says he completed his intermediate in 1986 from MAO College, Lahore. He then left formal studies and joined a friend in his bookselling business.

“From 1980s till late 2000s was the golden period for booksellers,” he says. “There were big readers, and we made decent money. Sadly, the trend declined, mainly due to increased access to smartphones.”

Books were quite inexpensive back in the day, he recalls. Many customers, he says, “would leave my shop with bagfuls [of books].”

I can’t help asking him as to what a book means to him. He says, “It’s a blessing from Allah. A book that costs you a few hundred rupees will not make you poor. It will actually enrich your experience and impact your outlook on life.”

He is of the view that people should read more and that the government should ensure that books are affordable.

His first shop was on Kutchery Road, but he had to vacate the place as the owners decided to give it to someone else. He then set up his shop circa 1996 on The Mall, at the beginning of the service road where the weekly Sunday Book Bazaar is held these days.

“The best thing about this profession is that only knowledgeable people come to my shop.” He adds, “I learn a great deal from them.”

His favourite writers, he says, include Bano Qudsia, Ashfaq Ahmed, Mustansar Hussain Tarar and Mumtaz Mufti. His favourite books are: Shahab Nama by Qudrat Ullah Shahab, Zavia by Ashfaq Ahmed and Alakh Nagri and Ali Pur Ka Eli by Mumtaz Mufti.

asood arrives at his shop at 11 in the morning. He leaves at 8 in the night. It’s a routine that he says has become a way of life. He rarely takes a day off. He explains, “It’s something that I cannot afford to do.”

His son, who secured a scholarship to study in Italy, was unable to avail the opportunity due to circumstances at home. He now assists his father at the shop. Masood would rather he continued with his studies. “Kitabon ka khazana toh us kay paas hai, bas baith kay parhay aur zindagi mein agay niklay,” he remarks.

One lesson life has taught him is that reading can bring about a remarkable change in one’s quality of life.

Some of his old customers have remained loyal to him and visit him from time to time. “Woh saaray achhi jaghon peh baithay hain zindagi mein!” (they are all well placed in life), he says, gently.

My eyes drift towards the books around us. I find a beautiful hardbound copy of Mohsin Hamid’s Exit West, I know I am buying it for a friend. I also notice an old edition of Benazir Bhutto’s Reconciliation: Islam, Democracy and the West. Masood quotes a price that’s higher than I expected. I try to haggle. He says something that strikes me: “People love to buy this book, even if its pages are torn.” It makes me realise how well he understands the art of selling books. I eventually pick it up for a price that could have easily fetched me a new volume.

I am about to leave the shop when a sturdy and spirited horse pass us by. Masood turns to me with a knowing smile and says, “It is little moments like these that keep life going.”

It’s time for Isha prayers and the sky has turned starry. That, together with the conversation with one of Lahore’s erudite booksellers, brings the day to a perfect end.

Usama Malick is a storyteller