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'Some people sink without a trace. I rose without a trace'

Tara Shankar Sahay in New Delhi

It is rather rare for a roadside vendor to have literary ambitions. But Laxman Rao, 45, one among the thousands of paanwallas in India's capital, is rare.

A native of a small village in Maharashtra's Amravati district, he has written six books so far. And have several more in the pipeline.

Long ago, when he was in class X, Laxman ran way from home. To Bhopal, in search of livelihood. His father could not meet his demand of Rs 40, which he wanted to start off on his own. So Laxman raised enough money for his bus journey, and set off.

The memory of his friend Ramdas, who drowned in the village pond, kept haunting him as he worked in roadside kiosks. At night, he dreamt of Ramdas' family crying over his dead body. One evening, he penned down in Hindi his observations of the tragic death. He kept on writing well past midnight. At dawn, he fell into an exhausted slumber.

When Laxman arrived for work the next day well after noon, his boss threw him out. Strangely, being jobless once again did not bother him. He was surprised, and pleased, by the story he had written the previous night. It was then that he decided to become a novelist.

Soon he was writing full-length novels. Laxman's ecstasy knew know bounds, but his difficulties had just begun. The publishers he approached all had the same refrain -- a paanwala should remain a paanwala; having literary ambitions was sacrilege!

Laxman, however, went on determinedly. On July 3, 1975 he came to Delhi. Further tribulations awaited him. For a week, he slogged out in the sun, sleeping on the footpath at Daryaganj with other homeless people.

Succour came when a kindly labour in-charge gave him work at Rs 5 per day and shelter in a jhuggi (ghetto). The latter was in Rouss Avenue, near ITO, where Laxman's tiny paan shop operates today. The road was later named Vishnu Digambar Marg.

The incessant rains in 1975 put a stop to casual labour. Laxman was out of work again. In a moment of inspiration, he set up a stall and started selling paan. As business picked up, he added tea and biscuits. Well-wishers turned into regulars and hung around for hours discussing the latest trend in Hindi literature with the impassioned stall-owner.

The success of his kiosk gave him the confidence to attempt another novel. For the next two months, he wrote furiously, every night, into the night. The finished product was Nayee duniya ki nayee kahani (The new tale of the new world).

But the publishers in Delhi proved to be, if anything, more unsympathetic than their Bhopal counterparts. One suggested that the budding novelist "become a government clerk, it will be more paying." That was when Laxman made up his mind to be his own publisher.

Reminiscing about his days of struggle, Laxman says: "Some people sink without a trace. I rose without a trace. But I knew my limitations and planned accordingly."

Those days, Laxman continues, taught him one thing: that life is one helluva slog. But, then, Laxman wasn't scared of slogging.

He claims Ramdas (his first novel) and Nayee duniya ki nayee kahani sold 2,300 and 1,788 copies respectively. By 1979, newspaper reporters were interviewing him.

That boosted his confidence. On June 27, 1984, he got an opportunity to meet then prime minister Indira Gandhi. When he expressed his intention to write a book on her life, Gandhi suggested that highlighting her policies and programmes would be a better idea.

"It appealed to me as Indiraji sounded very convincing," Laxman says.

Labouring for two months, he produced a drama, Pradhan mantri (Prime minister). Indira Gandhi's assassination in October the same year was traumatic. Laxman could not help thinking that whenever he was poised to make a breakthrough, some mishap inevitably befell him. He resolved to continue his education further.

Laxman enrolled at the Patrakar Vidyalaya and passed the 12th. He then went for a bachelor of arts degree. It was during this time that his Ramdas hit pay dirt. Suddenly there was a renewed demand, to meet which he had it reprinted. The demand was mostly from libraries, and the author started receiving an unending stream of mail.

His determination to write on social themes, his craving for success and his honesty of purpose still bubbles over. He has the plots ready for four novels -- already named as Anu, Narmada, Patton ki sarsarahat and Bharatiya rajniti -- with which he hopes to propel himself into the bracket of the critically-appreciated.

"I can write simple but good Hindi prose. I am impressed with (Anton) Chekov's style of writing," he says, "Today I am happily married with two children. I have a little money. But I will consider myself truly successful if my novels are talked about where it matters..."

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