KARACHI: Let’s thank Bartle Frere profusely for at least two things. First, for giving Karachi that awesome piece of architecture we know as Frere Hall; second, for allowing old books to be sold at affordable prices on the Frere Hall premises.

Yes, the kind of Sunday book bazaar that you witness these days in front of the main entrance to the historic building falls short on variety, still it manages to attract a reasonable number of book lovers representing different social strata of society every week. To boot, the flute player Motilal adds a sad dimension to the whole exercise. But first, let’s discuss books, their sellers and buyers.

It is difficult to decide whether Urdu books in the bazaar outnumber their English counterpart. Perhaps the latter have a marginal edge, mainly because Frere Hall is situated in an area near those neighbourhoods of the city where English is, or can be, spoken. However, as far as the salesmen go, it’s the ones that sell Urdu books who seem to have a sharper understanding of the market.Mureed Husain, for example, mans the largest stall where you can find Urdu classics and old editions of reputed literary magazines. He uses terms like adabi sarqa (literary plagiarism) which can surprise you. He will tell you that the stuff that he has is original, by which he means bought in and brought from India. He is aware that Maqalaat-i-Haali, published form Hyderabad Deccan, spawned a lot of copies in Pakistan. And what he has is the ‘original’ one.

It is quite interesting to note that despite having such a keen sense, Mureed Husain doesn’t pay much attention to the placement of books. He does that randomly. Sibt-i-Hassan’s Naveed-i-Fikr can be seen rubbing shoulders with Dr Younus Butt’s Tu Tu Main Main. Perhaps the poor chap doesn’t have time when he comes in the morning (on Sundays) and unpacks bundles of books to sort them out as per their literary or ideological leanings.

Paulo Coelho seems to have lost his fan following among Karachi’s readers. He’s been elbowed out by Veronica Roth and George R. Martin. It’s ironic in the Veronica Roth’s case because one of Coelho’s most read books is titled Veronika Decides to Die. Roth’s Divergent series, according to a bookseller Aamir, is the most sought-after in 2014. And all of that cost no more than Rs200.

Chander Keswani is a known Sindhi poet and critic. On a recent Sunday he was looking for Shyam Bhatia’s Goodbye Shahzadi. “I come here regularly. I have often found rare books in this market, such as Qamarzamani Begum by Dr Farman Fatehpuri. Though I believe that the younger generation is more into e-books and stuff, the magic of a hardback or a paperback will never wear off,” he says.

What makes the Frere Hall book bazaar (some call it book fair) more ambient these days is the constant sound of the flute, playing Indian and Pakistani film tunes such as Chandni Raatein, in the background.

No, it’s not a commercial gimmick that publishers have come up with. It’s the poor musician Motilal who every week spreads a piece of cloth on the ground, anywhere where he finds space and permission at Frere Hall, as a busker to earn a living.

Only a few lend an ear to Motilal’s melodious playing. He also has a bunch of flutes for sale, which no one buys. An occasional compassionate reader would drop a five-rupee coin into his lap.

No one knows that he’s also there to teach them music. Apart from the bunch of flutes, he carries a copy in which musical notes to be played on the flute, both progressively and backwards, called palte are written. If asked, he can demonstrate how the paltes are practised. But it doesn’t happen.

What happens is that some book lovers nod appreciatively and walk past Motilal, like the young man who on Sunday bought Ian McEwan’s Booker Prize winning novel Amsterdam for Rs50.