A conference in Satara confronts the vanishing Marathi reader

The 99th All India Marathi Literary Conference, held in Satara, felt less like a celebratory gathering and more like a high-stakes emergency summit. As the Marathi literary world converged, the dominant conversation was not merely about prose and poetry, but about the very survival of the Marathi language and its reading culture in a rapidly changing world.

This industrial introspection was magnified by the somber tone of President Vishwas Patil's address in which he cited the staggering statitics of farmer suicides, calling the tragedy a failure of "all political parties, society, and indeed, even writers and artists."

He painted a bleak picture about the declining reading culture. The library movement, once championed by stalwarts like Yashwantrao Chavan, is in its "final stages." He pointed to the absurdity of removing a librarian’s post if a school’s enrollment drops below a thousand. He said, Maharashtra is a state with a population of 13 crores, where liquor shops outnumber vendors of Marathi books. Likewise, he noted that Mumbai city with a population of over two crores, has only five Marathi bookshops. 

Patil demanded the abolition of the 18% GST on authors and publishers, calling the tax an attack on the beleaguered publishing business. His word of caution: "The battle for the existence of our mother tongue, Marathi, has reached the doorstep of each and every Marathi person." 

The conference, which sets its sights on completing a historic arc—announced that the 100th anniversary will return to its birthplace in Pune, where the first was held in 1878 — was underscored by a profound sense of anxiety.

The crisis of the printed page

In a seminar titled 'Where does Marathi publishing stand in the global publishing industry?', a consensus emerged that the industry is at an inflection point, with the potential to either find a global footing or recede into insularity. Publishers, authors, and economists agreed on the need for a collective and professional effort to expand the scope of Marathi publishing. Rohan Champanerkar, a publisher, remarked that "Reading needs to become a fashion among the youth," necessitating books on relevant subjects written in accessible language. The focus was not just on print, but on adaptation: Dr Manoj Kamat urged publishers to recognise the potential of a single book to become a play, film, web series, or podcast, while author Rajiv Shrikhande championed the necessity of embracing audiobooks to meet the modern reader where they are. Legal and professional rigour, noted Amruta Tandale, was as crucial as creative innovation.

The word at the centre of the world

The political establishment, sensing the cultural urgency, responded with both historical acknowledgment and new schemes. The deputy chief minister Eknath Shinde, in his address, announced a "schemes" aimed at revitalising public engagement with the language: the establishment of bookstalls in every bus station, two designated, half-priced stalls for books in municipal shopping centres, and a commitment to reducing GST on paper.

Amidst the policy talk, the conference made space for the cultural soul of the literature. Senior writer Dr Mridula Garg asserted in her inaugural speech that "Dalit literature is the greatest revolution, and Marathi is the mother of such literature," calling it a "cornerstone of India's literary world." She praised the power of poets like Namdeo Dhasal and Narayan Surve and underscored the conference’s identity as a platform for social as well as artistic leadership.

The existential anxiety of the gathering found a final, poignant echo outside the main stage. The release of the film Krantijyoti Vidyalaya Marathi Medium was noted — a creative protest against the closing of Marathi-medium schools due to dwindling enrollment. The film’s theme, like the President’s call to action and the publishers’ urgent pleas, was a reminder that the Literary Conference is not just a place to discuss books; it is the annual rallying point for the enduring, difficult fight to keep the Marathi word alive.