Higginbothams for me is so synonymous with train journeys that I remember how shocked and almost aggrieved I felt when I first saw many years ago its large elegant premises sitting solidly in Madras, aka Chennai. The name conjures up memories of long lazy train trips to Madras, my sister and I peering out of the windows as the train eased into Vijayawada or Guntur, trying to spot the Higginbothams stall so my father could pick up Amar Chitra Kathas for us. Maybe that’s one reason why I almost never shop at its imposing premises in the city; I want Higginbothams only if it’s on a railway platform.

When I do make a visit to the Anna Salai store, I am happier simply gazing at its graceful brilliant white façade, almost church-like with its large arched stained-glass windows and imposing simplicity. The interiors reinforce the church motif — sprawling 10,000 sq ft of space with a soaring ceiling stretching upwards, Italian marble floors, a large curved staircase that leads to the galleries on the first floor, and tall wooden doors that open onto the back-offices.

When Abel Joshua Higginbothams, a stowaway from Britain, landed in Madras, he was first an itinerant Bible peddler and then a librarian, before he set up shop in 1844. He built the present place only in 1904 to house his increasingly successful business, which by now also included a publishing unit. Then his son took over, and after him a gentleman named W.W. Ladden, till, in 1949, it was bought by the Amalgamations group, south Indian business stalwarts, who have since grown the business manifold. Apart from its stalls in all major southern railway stations, Higginbothams now has about 20 branches across south India, and even a shop-on-wheels in Chennai (Madras).

One man epitomises much of that old world that Higginbothams represents, and to meet him you are led upstairs, to a long room that would fit right into any government office anywhere in India. Rows of desks below, rows of long-stemmed ceiling fans whirring above, dusty people moving dusty files, except that there are books and books piled everywhere. K. Srinivasan, 70 years old, joined the shop as a stenographer in 1955, and now edits an antiquarian newsletter that reviews new arrivals at Higginbothams. Sitting at Srinivasan’s desk is like going back in time. He has fascinating stories to tell, of standing on the terrace and watching Queen Elizabeth passing by on Mount Road; of serving Clement Atlee in the shop; of how as soon as the Maharajah of Mysore’s Madras trip was published in The Hindu, people would drop in at 11am sharp at Higginbothams, so certain were they of meeting him there; of how each succeeding proprietor has been a Sheriff of Madras.

The shingle outside says “Printers and Publishers, Booksellers and Stationers”, and while the former business is now quite desultory, the stationery department has been expanded, with every manner of folder and writing material on stock, plus greeting cards and gifts and a large collection of CDs and DVDs — the step towards modernism the shop has had to take to survive. Its strength, however, continues to be its huge collection of textbooks, which account for almost 60 per cent of sales. One half of the first floor gallery now houses a really comprehensive range of medical and computer books. Then there is its stock of Tamil books, possibly the largest in the state, representing all leading Tamil publishers, while English fiction, non-fiction and children’s books make up the rest.All this I can find anywhere; for me the best browsing is in the shelves lined with stuff like embroidery pattern books and batik design books, or a dated black-and-white tailoring book with patterns for dresses that were high fashion in the 1960s, old-fashioned books of maxims… these are practically collector’s items.

I wonder if there is some way Higginbothams could specialise in such books, perhaps start a section for rare books…some gesture that could underline its one-and-a-half century history. In fact, even if it could redo its interiors with more care, it could make a statement. As such, the modern shelves and plastic sit awkwardly inside the striking exteriors. It’s like a gracious old lady forced into too-high heels and tottering between two worlds. The shop cries out for gleaming wooden display shelves and cupboards and mellow lighting; for long, low pew-style seating for browsers; sections separated discreetly by potted palms and carved screens; a sense of library hush. One wants Higginbothams to be old-fashioned; we can find modern bookstores selling Barbie dolls anywhere.

Location: 116 Anna Salai, Chennai (044-28521841)





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