'Reading is grist. Reading is bliss'

Written by a senior sports editor comfortable being called ‘a bit of a literary snob’, this is a treasure trove of a book for those invested in the joys of reading.

It’s inevitable that there will be a compelling backstory accompanying a quirk or the quixotic. Why should it be any different with Why Don’t You Write Something I Might Read?, Suresh Menon’s sixth literary composition and his first beyond the ambit of cricket.

The inspiration behind the title is Suresh’s sculptor wife Dimpy, who hasn’t read his previous books because she isn’t ‘a great sports fan’. Hence this compilation of essays on writers of different generations and genres that highlights the joys of reading and provides a fascinating insight into the restless mind of a reader-writer who has dived whole-heartedly into the vast expanse of the written word.

“She is,” Suresh chuckles, confirming that his wife is in the process of devouring the compelling read. The family’s delight is doubled by the fact that Dimpy’s sculpture, In Thought, embellishes the book’s cover.

First love

Suresh made a name for himself many decades back as a cricket writer who started his career with this newspaper in the 1980s, went on to become the youngest sports editor in the country, made the customary pilgrimage to the Middle East for a stint with a well-known publication before returning to India at the turn of the millennium. He has been a voracious reader all his life, so this work is a natural extension of his first love.

“From when I was in school, I’ve been fascinated by anything to do with books, with literature and reading,” he offers. “The idea of writing a book on reading has been in my head; I have written much shorter versions of some of these pieces. Actually, the idea for this book came from the publisher (Karthika V K of Westland Publications), who knew of my obsession with/fascination for this genre. Generally, publishers don’t look at essays as anything substantial, but I think there is something the essay form can do that some of the others can’t. One of them is being much kinder to the reader in terms of sheer practicality, in terms of the fact that the reader has to read only so many words at a time. You can dip in and dip out, you don’t need to read from cover to cover as you might a novel.”

“When Karthika broached this subject, it was very exciting because I had vague notions in my head of doing something like this at some point. The time was opportune; it was during some of our worst times — the lockdown and the pandemic. I was very conscious of not having to write a highly technical book. That’s how I start, by quoting some of these literary theorists. I was conscious of not getting into the trap of analysing sentences and what is between words. I wanted to communicate my sheer excitement and the joy and fun of reading.”

A spectrum of writers

That excitement shines through from the first page to the end as Suresh traverses the spectrum from V S Naipaul and Ved Mehta, both of whom he has met multiple times, to less internationally acclaimed writers including the late Sidhanta Patnaik, a colleague of Suresh’s at Wisden India. “I was keen not to have a structured plan because sometimes, the structure defeats the purpose of reading,” he says. “I like a basic formlessness which is both challenging and charming because the reader can do the segregation (of what to read) if he wants to. There are so many favourite writers and poets I haven’t even touched upon, but with people like Naipaul or Ved Mehta or Alberto Manguel, it was also meeting the people I had read and greatly admired.”

In a book of upwards of 50 essays, to ask the author to pick the ones he enjoyed more than others is unfair, but when has that ever stopped us? Suresh does embark on a spirited journey towards the answer. “An essay on Naipaul, I would say. We had many meetings over the years and the texture of each was so different. The amazing man had such an amazing memory,” he recalls, still a little in awe. “I liked the sessions with Manguel and Ved Mehta, who kindly invited us to a show in New York at the Met. I am equally happy to have brought in some personal friends and colleagues into the story.”

Suresh is comfortable with self-deprecation — “I am a bit of a literary snob” — but has strong ideas about reading that he isn’t apologetic about. “You start reading indiscriminately before you start reading discriminately,” he insists. “And I am hoping that this can be a small contribution towards that aim.”

To the casual reader, Why Don’t You Write Something I Might Read? could be the gateway to the world of the Naipauls, the Mehtas and the Martin Gardners, the uber-versatile American mathematician.

To those already invested in reading, this is a treasure trove of delight and fun, with a touch of vicarious pleasure thrown in. He probably already has, but if not, Suresh can pat himself on the back on a job brilliantly done. Even as he will protest that this wasn’t a ‘job’ at all.