many little-little more gems from the festival, many of which i can hardly remember.
there were kites in the trees
and women with the most gorgeously appropriate bags
and geoff dyer whose reading from jeff in venice, death in varanasi had people running out like mad dogs to buy his book (me too and made me realize reading a book is a vastly different experience from listening to it being read by the author and can often seem totally disconnected, unrelated literary experiences)
and s. anand of navayna press whose talk i attended quite randomly (and also adored) and later happened to travel to delhi with
and chugge khan who is a mad man on the khartal
and tony wheeler! and tony wheeler at mrigya!
and, oh, the bauls! william dalrymple performing nine lives with the bauls whose videos i will certainly not put up, it would be a sin really.
and the pretty diggi palace rooms
and snakey lunch lines and people "insinuating" themselves into queues (a sweet word thing i have officially imbibed from geoff dyer)
and silver shopping (maharani market rocks!) and whining authors (amit chaudhury, you know who i'm talking about) and witty new discoveries (omair ahmad with the gorgeously pronounced name) and flamboyant displays (coughcoughsunilsethicoughcough) and many lunches with ndtv royalty later... jaipur lit fest was over, and delhi started saying pack those skirts away and hurry up and get here already.