Book Box | How to find your tribe: The unexpected magic of book club friends
In Mumbai, the joy of reconnecting with books and book club friends brings together food, laughter, and a sense of community.
Dear Reader,
When I return home to Mumbai, my second favourite thing is being reunited with my books. I wander through the different rooms, and through the morning my desk piles up with a mixed collection - there’s Money, Myths and Mantras which has arrived in my absence, there’s Eliot’s book of Bookish Lists that I bought a few months ago and is just pure fun to dip into and From Volga to Ganga, which is now on my reading list along with books on rivers from all around the world.
My favourite thing is meeting my book club friends. These readers, people I first met because of our shared love of the written word, these strangers have now turned into my best friends. On Sunday, they troop in for breakfast carrying podi idlis, kachoris and dhokla—and as the day unwinds, our drinks shift from tea to coffee to orange juice, then wine. We argue about whether we should read Empire of AI (please, not another tech book!) or re-read The Day of the Jackal to commemorate Fredrick Forsyth who recently passed away .
On Tuesday I meet others. We first connected online and continued to hang out once every month on Zoom. But I am back in the city and Sumedha is here from Singapore and so we decide to do one of our rare in-real-life meetings - what better way to start the work day than to meet for a book club breakfast. There are rumours of a taxi strike but we set out anyway, driving through rainy streets to the midpoint Bandra cafe we have agreed on.
{{/usCountry}}On Tuesday I meet others. We first connected online and continued to hang out once every month on Zoom. But I am back in the city and Sumedha is here from Singapore and so we decide to do one of our rare in-real-life meetings - what better way to start the work day than to meet for a book club breakfast. There are rumours of a taxi strike but we set out anyway, driving through rainy streets to the midpoint Bandra cafe we have agreed on.
{{/usCountry}}Meeting in real life has an infinite set of unpredictable pleasures. For one, we can all talk at the same time, starting simultaneously, stopping, bursting into peals of laughter, carrying on.
{{/usCountry}}Meeting in real life has an infinite set of unpredictable pleasures. For one, we can all talk at the same time, starting simultaneously, stopping, bursting into peals of laughter, carrying on.
{{/usCountry}}“Me, me” say Suchi and Radhika in unison. We are divvying up the giveaway books. It is a tantalising pile and the readers are competing with gusto and gloves off.
{{/usCountry}}“Me, me” say Suchi and Radhika in unison. We are divvying up the giveaway books. It is a tantalising pile and the readers are competing with gusto and gloves off.
{{/usCountry}}The bidding pauses as we pass around another set of titles. Pallavi is holding open an illustrated cocktail guide, drinking in the smell of paper. The rest of us crowd closer - the colourful covers, the textures, the inscriptions on the opening pages, these books are works of art in a way e-books can never be. These paperbacks and hardcovers carry stillness and substance and history; they’re almost like the sacraments of our little community, connecting us in this ritual of togetherness.
A day earlier I’d posted this message in my building group —“Attending a book swap! DM if you have books to pass on!”. I’m gifted treasures: a bilingual Meghdootam, an illustrated book of birds of Nepal, even a thriller (The Afghan). My neighbours, their children grown, their homes shrinking, confess they couldn’t bear to junk these books.“We’re glad they’re going to someone who’ll love them,” they say.
The books leave our gathering to homes all around the city as we wend our way back in different directions. I come away feeling happily sated - tea, omelettes, toasted bread, french press coffee and a feast of books. And a gorgeous red, blue and gold Celtic bookmark from Kavitha who has just returned from Ireland with books and bookmarks.
Driving back, I realise that finding my own bookish tribe has been a lot about creating the right conditions for connection.
Tell me, dear reader— do you enjoy the idea of bookish friends ? If so, here are my top three tips
How to create your bookish tribe
(Three Lessons from a Mumbai Book Club)
1. Let breakfast do the work
Combine books with shared meals. Structure meet-ups around food rituals to ease strangers into comfort.
2. Make book swaps a competitive sport: Polite readers finish last
Display books prominently (tantalizing pile = instant craving)
Encourage performative bidding (”Me, me!” beats polite hand-raising)
Include wild cards (That random cocktail book? Suddenly priceless)
3. Become a book foster home : Neighbours’ garages are goldmines.
Ask openly (”DM books to pass on!”)
Take everything (No genre-shaming)
Report back (”Your poem book went to a substack newsletter writer !”)
Any other tips that we can add to these ?
(Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya’s Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. If you have any reading recommendations or reading dilemmas, write to her at sonyasbookbox@gmail.com. The views expressed are personal)
