Authored by Purva Grover
“Don’t blame yourself,” I consoled the teacher.
I had just finished delivering a talk at one of the schools in Dubai. It was World Book Day in 2022, and my role was to inspire children to read more and perhaps write more too. It was a good talk, and I knew that. You always know, don’t you?
In the end, an angsty teenager (we have all been there, haven’t we?) took it upon himself to show me that he knew better. And I let him—learning to express yourself is the key to writing, after all).
He questioned why he should write, saying it would never make him rich. He declared I was not well-off. He remarked I was not famous, for he had never heard of me. He announced that reading was boring and OTT platforms were better. He advised me in good faith to find another job.
He enjoyed the spotlight, and I knew it was best to leave it at that. The teachers were embarrassed, while I was calm.
As I sat in the cab, all I wanted was to get to my writing desk. I wrote a good chunk, and I knew so. You always know, don’t you?
That night, I received a DM on Instagram—it was the teenager. He gloated: “I killed it today, didn’t I?”
I replied, “You did. You wrote your first character sketch, congrats!” And I left it at that.
He messaged me again, almost a year later: “I am working on a short story.” I replied, “I killed it last year, didn’t I?”
I could tell you what he replied, or I could leave this story just at this.
As I pen this, I look back at the many World Book Day celebrations I have been part of, and I am compelled to wonder how we, as a community, continue to uncelebrate this day, this profession, this passion.
As parents (yes, we are multitasking, and it is a tough job—full respect to all of you), we at the last minute generously spend on arranging a “book character” costume for our child, but we forget to get them a book on the day, perhaps one tenth of the price of the costume, if not less.
As institutes (yes, budgets are tight), we choose not to offer an honorarium to authors (or even purchase their books for libraries) who we believe will inspire the kids, and we request that they spare their time and share their experiences.
We make a big deal of the day, and we tick the box that we have celebrated it correctly.
As a society, we tell every child who dares to dream and says he or she wants to be an author that the idea is a hobby and that they should focus on a career instead.
As an author, I fail to announce every single day—Monday, Tuesday, or World Book Day—that I have the greatest job in the world, which comes with its share of challenges—but then, is anything easy out there?
While I wish and hope to change the narrative and celebrate books and their creators as they should be, I know that this year, too, there will be Matildas and Potters on April 23rd, and most of them would never have read those books or be aware of their authors’ names.
Perhaps a few of us will think of buying or reading a book. Many will refuse to honor the author under the guise of a lack of resources and a chance of exposure. And together, we will all add another day lost to the opportunity we had to build a generation of readers and authors.
As for me, I will sit at my writing desk and, with warmth, still recall the day I refreshed my Instagram inbox and received the first short story by a young author.
Yes, you may disagree and may have had a different experience with the world of reading, and I am happy to hear that. I am not here to argue, though—congrats if you think differently—we just learned what a conflict in a story is.
About the author: Purva Grover is a storyteller at heart, always carrying a book like a lifeline and writing only in Calibri 11. She has been a journalist for 19 years and an essayist, diarist, and creative entrepreneur. Lately, she finds herself stepping back, even as she heads magazines, writes on Substack, and wonders what comes next. Backed by a master’s degree in Mass Communication and Literature, she has published four books—so different that even she sometimes wonders where they came from. She remains stubbornly passionate about anything that begins with Once Upon a Time… Her work stretches beyond print: podcasts, talks, theatrical collaborations as a playwright and stage director, art-led projects, and interdisciplinary storytelling are all part of her creative playground. In 2021, she was awarded the UAE Golden Visa by the Dubai Culture & Arts Authority and recognized under the People of Culture and Art—Writer category as part of the inaugural Class of Creators. Purva isn’t an influencer—she’s a storyteller, driven by memory, curiosity, and an enduring hunt for her favorite word. She lives and writes in Dubai, UAE, with her husband, where she also runs a literary society dedicated to nurturing readers and fostering community.
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