Before the digital revolution, “waste paper mart” was a handy hanger for synecdoche the literary device. Old newspapers and books were always the unlikely bully in a scrap shop, elbowing even heavy metal scrap to the sidelines. In a bloodless synecdochic takeover, these fragile items proudly represented the whole of scrap materials. And the neighbourhood Kabadiwala invariably appended “waste paper mart” to their shop’s name. 

Rajalakshmi Waste Paper Mart on East Coast Road (ECR) in Pallavakkam established 26 years ago mirrors this practice. Its owner T. Ponraja is winding up operations at Pallavakkam, the shutters to be downed for the final time sometime next week, when he would be launching into his second innings at a new address in Injambakkam on ECR, carrying over lessons and scrap items, not all of them, certainly not the used books and stacks of old newspapers. He notes he is going to the next level, and reveals there is no room for old newspapers and books up there. “I will focus on wooden and metal scrap.”

Even at Pallavakkam, the old newspapers and books were not raking in the shekels; a whole truckload of other scraps did that for Ponraja. But he would still display old books he received, on a metal rack right next to where he would be seated. He would not sell those books by a standard weight math, but by deliberate pricing of each individual book, turning over to see the price on the cover. He wanted book lovers to purchase from him. Over the years as smartphone models became thinner, the stacks of books coming in became correspondingly lighter. Good used book titles were slow in making it to the shelf and slower still leaving it. He has spread out the last stack of books on the shelf. And these books might be waiting for readers that will probably never arrive. No problem with the quality of the collection; only that their time under the sun is up.

“Even if I sell a book worth ₹499 for ₹100, there are no buyers,” says Ponraja, believing the downward slide began during the pandemic, and is speeding as dependence on technology for information deepens by the minute. “There was a time when he would have a steady stream of customers looking for old books. Their enthusiasm motivated me to collect more books. Now, I have lost my motivation.” This is a recurrent theme across neighbourhood scrap shops, many of them not drawn anymore to keeping old books for sale. And that contrasts sharply with how in the past neighbourhood Kabadiwalas headlined the chapter on old books in the circular economy. They would welcome old books jettisoned out of households. Sellers of old books would buy from them on the cheap, usually by weight; sometimes residents would be buyers, in which case, the price would be higher but still strikingly affordable. These books would find a cosy shelf in a new home and then again be offloaded onto a tricycle to be carted to a Kabadiwala shop. 

While a majority of Kabadiwalas believe the death knell for the used books trade is progressively getting louder, do not be surprised to meet some who continue to believe in it. Abdur Rasheed runs a scrap shop at East Abhiramapuram First Street in Mylapore where a notable display is a wall-mounted metal shelf which is always populated by used books that are sold by weight, a fixed ₹80 per kg. Books might contribute to a negligible part of his income, but he still buys them as scrap, displays them prominently for sale. Explains Abdur: “There is still demand for books; there are still customers coming for books, because of which I go and fetch books. It is an amalgamation of fresh and old books, often both in good condition.”

In this National Reading Month, such stories are a sliver of hope for lovers of printed books.

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