Nine years of Broke Bibliophiles Bombay Chapter (B3C) book club –

In 2016, when I first imagined Broke Bibliophiles – Bombay Chapter or B3C, I was not an architect of grand literary movements. There was no blueprint, no soaring ambition. There was only a yearning – a simple desire to gather around the warmth of words and build a refuge against the world’s relentless pace.

The first meeting was hesitant, almost like the opening lines of a novel that doesn’t yet know where it’s going. A handful of strangers in a café, each clutching a book close to their hearts, as though revealing a fragment of their soul. Conversations meandered, stories unfolded, and by the time the evening gave way to twilight, we were no longer strangers.

What began as an impromptu gathering soon evolved into an unshakable ritual. Book discussions spilled into long coffee and beer sessions, stories overlapped with personal anecdotes, and literature, so often confined to the private act of reading, became a shared experience, a conversation rather than a monologue.

In the years that followed, the club transformed, expanding not in numbers alone, but in depth, in meaning. The magic was not just in the books we read, but in the lives we touched. I saw friendships take root in the margins of dog-eared novels, witnessed hesitant newcomers turn into vocal enthusiasts, and even watched love stories unfurl between the shelves.

Yes, love stories.

It might sound whimsical, even absurd, but there is a certain intimacy in discussing books with another person. A book is not merely a collection of pages – it is a mirror, a map, a secret letter to those who dare to read between the lines. And when two souls connect over a shared love for a story, it is not mere coincidence. It is fate, written in the ink of countless authors before us.

I think of two strangers who met at a B3C gathering, passionately arguing over The Shadow of the Wind. She believed it was a love letter to books; he believed it was a tragedy disguised as mystery. Their voices clashed, their ideas sparked, and yet, something lingered long after the discussion ended. A few months later, I saw them at another meeting, this time sitting a little closer, speaking a little softer. Today, they’re together, their bookshelves merging into one.

Over the years, B3C has become more than a book club. It is a sanctuary. A place where ideas clash and blend, where voices find their echoes, where literature ceases to be an individual pursuit and instead becomes a communal ritual.

But keeping this sanctuary alive in a world that is increasingly digital has not been easy.

There were days, especially in the early years, when I wondered if people would even show up. I remember one evening in particular – rain drumming against the café window, a table set for ten, but only two of us sat waiting. The temptation to give in, to migrate entirely online, was real. Wouldn’t it be easier to just start a WhatsApp group, hold discussions over Zoom? It would be less effort, fewer logistics, no worries about venues or no-shows.

And yet, every time I considered it, something held me back.

Perhaps it was the way conversations flowed when people sat together, the way a pause in speech carried weight, the way eyes lit up when a favourite book was mentioned. There is something irreplaceable about the rustle of pages being passed around, about scribbled notes exchanged in the margins of a novel, about the serendipity of borrowing a book from a stranger and returning it as a friend.

There were logistical nightmares too – cafés that didn’t want large groups lingering too long, venues that suddenly became too expensive, sessions cut short by a loud neighbouring table. Once, we were halfway through a passionate discussion when the café’s speakers blasted Bollywood dance numbers so loud, we had to step outside. We finished our discussion elsewhere, as taxis honked past us. It wasn’t ideal, but somehow, it felt right.

Despite everything – the hurdles, the dwindling attendance some weeks, the constant effort of keeping an offline space vibrant – B3C endured. Because every time we gathered, the magic of real human connection outweighed the convenience of the digital.

And then came the great pause – the pandemic.

For the first time in years, our sacred gatherings were forced into dormancy. The coffee shop conversations, the scribbled book recommendations passed around like secret notes, the collective sigh of awe when someone discovered a literary gem – all of it came to an abrupt halt.

I feared that silence would consume us. That the very essence of B3C – its shared, tangible presence – would dissolve. But I had underestimated the resilience of book lovers.

We adapted. We carried our discussions into the virtual realm, stitching our conversations across time zones and borders. What threatened to be our undoing instead expanded our reach. No longer bound to a single city, our voices resonated across continents. Readers from Bangalore, Delhi, London, and New York City joined our fold, proving that literature knows no boundaries.

And now, as we step into our tenth year, we stand not just as a book club, but as one of Mumbai’s longest-running literary communities.

Nine years have passed since that first uncertain meeting. And yet, in many ways, we are still writing the prologue.

The story of B3C is not just about books. It is about the people who have passed through its pages – the laughter, the debates, the friendships, the serendipitous connections. It is about the late-night messages exchanged after finishing a novel that left someone breathless, about the nervous first-time speakers who found their voice within our gatherings, about the quiet listener who, one day, decided to share a story of their own.

We began as readers. We became a community.

And as we look ahead, the promise of unwritten pages awaits. We will continue to grow, to host, to invite, to inspire. The chapters ahead are yet unknown, but one thing remains certain: as long as there are stories to be told, as long as there are books to be read, as long as there are people who believe in the power of words, B3C will endure.

To everyone who has ever been a part of this journey – to those who have attended a meeting, recommended a book, or simply followed us from afar – you are the reason this story exists.

Here’s to nine years of literature, belonging, and the extraordinary power of words.

Here’s to the book club that now we call home.

Nirav Mehta is the Manager of Publishing at Crossword Bookstores in Mumbai. He also leads Broke Bibliophiles – Bombay Chapter (B3C).

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