The decline of Boipara — that is also College Street to many — is an election issue.
Yes, you read it right. At a time when elections revolve around mandir-masjid politics, doles, and extravagant manifestoes, the CPM has decided to make "Save Boipara" one among its several poll pledges.
"It's not merely a cluster of bookshops. It is a network involving press workers, porters, van drivers, bookbinders, illustrators, authors and sellers. It is a living organism where each limb supports the other," said CPM leader Sangram Chatterjee.
CPM leaders, members and stakeholders recently came together at a party-backed "Save Boipara" conclave at College Street to voice their concern about the deepening crisis plaguing the city's historic book hub. The conclave called for urgent state intervention to revive the "intellectual and economic heart of Bengal".
The rain-soaked twilight of April 8 stood for the book hub's timeworn facades, with the smell of damp papers mingling with memories. Amidst this, a group of like-minded citizens expressed concern — not merely about the decline of a marketplace, but also about the decay of a cultural ecosystem that has, over the years, shaped Bengal's intellectual persona.
Kicking off the discussion, moderator Chatterjee spoke about infrastructural failures plaguing the area.
He said poor drainage systems routinely led to waterlogging, damaging books — “the very currency of Boipara”.
Chatterjee related the dilapidated Barnaparichay market nearby to the book hub's plight as he criticised the state government's sustained neglect. To underscore the legacy as the cradle of Bengal’s print culture, he traced the hub's historical evolution from Bot Tola to the present College Street-Gol Dighi area and asserted: “Saving Boipara is an important election issue for us."
In the alleys of College Street, where once ideas shuttled like turning of pages, traffic snarls and light banters now outlive the books.
The space, once shaped by figures such as Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar and Rabindranath Tagore, now plays on a dying intellectual tone. And such a broader crisis was flagged by Jorasanko CPM candidate Bharat Ram Tiwari. Tiwari linked the book hub's decay to the rot in our education system.
He asked why the para libraries remained closed across Calcutta and what led to the decline in reading culture, "a typical Bengali trait". "Even in an age of digital consumption, the printed book retains its irreplaceable presence," Tiwari said.
Tiwari also pledged that if the Left came to power, they would offer subsidised electricity — free power up to 100 units and reduced tariffs up to 200 units — to facilitate the smooth functioning of this dying industry.
In the alleys and by-lanes, where poets such as Shakti Chattopadhyay and Sunil Gangopadhyay once turned pavements and Coffee House chairs into spaces of adda, the present concerns offer an unsettling shift — as if a restless intellectual life grappling with a subdued and political reality.
The political tone of the conclave sharpened with the CPM's student leader Debanjan De alleging systemic neglect by the state government. He said Boipara's present condition was the consequence of its refusal to align with the ruling political party.
De contrasted the book hub's present state with the Left’s past tenure and said: "The CPM had ensured dignity and recognition for all sections within the ecosystem — from labourers to writers, artists and cover designers."
De blamed both the Trinamool Congress and the BJP for the decline and said: "Huge funds remain blocked, stalling development initiatives here. The printed books are lying stacked in shops, unsupplied to the schools. It is a corruption-driven ecosystem."
He alleged that an allocation of around ₹130 crore had not been utilised.
Voices from within the trade brought about a more intimate survival cry. Pranab Rudra, a printing press owner, said labourers were not available throughout the year. "Many of them are leaving the sector for more stable livelihoods, thereby exacerbating the situation with manpower shortage."
The humming sound of printing machines, once a constant in the alleys around College Street and the nearby Daftaripara, has now become intermittent, disrupted by uncertainty. The neighbourhood, once shaped by the intellectual legacy of Satyajit Ray and Amartya Sen, now shows more than an intellectual vacuum or an economic slowdown. The debate now shifted from ideas to survival.
Former MP and CPM leader Sujan Chakraborty spoke about the need to ensure social and economic security for those dependent on the book trade. He demanded to know why key institutions such as the Barnaparichay market remained neglected and questioned why unsold books were being left to decay.
“Why are the pile of books lying idle, only to be eaten by insects?” he asked.
Chakraborty linked the crisis to the declining standard of education in Bengal, claiming that thousands of schools remained shut down or were functioning without adequate teachers, while allocations for libraries had dwindled. The erosion of public education, he said, hits hard the foundations of the book economy.
The manifesto presented at the conclave proposed a multi-layered response — increased government spending on book procurement for schools, libraries and institutions to revive demand; urgent infrastructure upgrades at College Street; minimum wages and social security for workers and the formation of a high-powered committee to oversee reforms, ensure transparency and guide long-term revival.
Yet, beyond the political blame game, the conclave carried a deeper resonance. The fading vitality of Boipara in a city, where bibliophilia has long been the lifeblood, puts forth a larger question — is the culture of reading on the wane?
In the narrow by-lanes of College Street, where ideas once moved freely, the fear looms, not only of economic decline but also of silence, piled-up books, quiet presses and a heritage that risks being archived rather than lived.