Off the cuff: Star-struck at Dubai lit fest

"Kaise hai aap?" (How are you?) I asked William Dalrymple, author of the Last Mughal and City of Djinns, and he replied in accented Hindi, "Theek hai," (I am fine).

He is another Briton (Scottish actually) who has turned native, so to speak, and now lives in New Delhi. Years ago a British businessman I met at a diplomat's house in Jeddah seemed puzzled. "How come Indians speak English with a Scottish accent?" he asked.

The diplomat answered, "Maybe because we were taught by Scottish parish priests in missionary schools."

Most urban Indians today are familiar with another Indophile, BBC correspondent Mark Tully. Many years ago I was sitting in the old world Gymkhana Club in Delhi, with pigeons fluttering about the high ceiling and waiters silently moving about as if 1947 had never happened, when all heads turned to see Tully in a kurta and pyjama, walk in with a pretty Indian woman by his side.

The Dubai lit fest which ended recently was loads of fun for the wide spectrum of readers, from those who pick up a cliff-hanger from the airport book shop to ward off boredom to serious lovers of literature, and to school kids who adored Darren Shan, the ‘master of horror'.

Funny side

I missed the conversation with Alexander McCall Smith, the author of No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency, who next door was having his audience in stitches. He was billed as the ‘warmest and funniest person on the festival circuit'.

After a couple of hours at the fest, I realised that even celebrity writers cannot resist reading what is written about them. Shobhaa De, who has been described as an unpredictable and interesting package, was still looking gorgeous at 60 in a sari and waist-length black hair. When she spotted a clipping about her on the notice board, she pointed it to out to her companion and said, "I must get a copy of that!" In her Facebook message, De, a Bollywood journalist and editor who had made ‘Hinglish' acceptable, writes how thrilled she was to be in Dubai.

Palestinian author Ghada Karmi (In Search of Fatima), who fled her homeland to Britain after the establishment of Israel, said she was pushed into studying medicine by her parents. "But I always wanted to be a writer."

I nearly told her that most Indian children are given just three career choices by their parents: doctor, engineer, computer programmer.

I was spellbound by Conn Iggulden's stories from history. "It's amazing how just one man can change the world," he said. "I would be today speaking to you in Mongol," he said, if Ogodai, the son of Chenghis Khan had not died.

The unstoppable Mongol hordes were at the gates of Vienna after conquering Eastern Europe and had almost decimated the Islamic empire, when news came of the death of the Khan's son. They packed up and went back home never to return.

There was Francis Wheen, author of the hugely popular, How Mumbo Jumbo Conquered the World, busy signing his books for a long line of his fans. In case you are not familiar with his work, very briefly, Wheen tells us in an engaging and in a highly readable manner, how idiotic we all are and how we never learn lessons from the past.

Author Kate Mosse squealed and said she did not love Vikas Swarup anymore, when he told her that he wrote Q&A in just two months. (Most authors take a year or two to write a book and spend years in research).

Swarup said he picked his publisher randomly off the internet. The book went on to become a huge hit on the bestseller list and as Slumdog Millionaire on the big screen.