By Satyabrat Borah
In the chaos of 1947, when the Partition of India tore apart communities and reshaped lives with bloodshed and displacement, a quiet love story emerged from the ashes of upheaval. Balraj Bahri Malhotra and Bhag Gulyani, two young refugees thrown together by fate, found not only solace in each other but also the resilience to build a lasting legacy in Delhi’s Khan Market: Bahrisons Bookstore. Their journey, marked by hardship, love and determination, is a testament to the human spirit’s ability to create beauty amidst turmoil.
Balraj Bahri Malhotra was just 19, a college student from Malakwal, a small village in what is now Pakistan, when the Partition forced his family to flee. Born in 1928 to a bank manager, Balraj had a comfortable life in Rawalpindi, where he pursued his education. But the violent division of British India into India and Pakistan changed everything. With his family he boarded a cramped train to Amritsar, leaving behind their home and possessions. Their father, separated during the chaos, stayed behind briefly to assist with banking training in the newly formed Pakistan. The family eventually reunited in Delhi, where they were allotted a small space in the Kingsway Camp, a sprawling refugee settlement in North Delhi that housed over 30,000 displaced souls.
Across the same camp, a 16-year-old girl named Bhag Gulyani arrived with her widowed mother and five siblings from Dera Ismail Khan in the North-West Frontier Province. Her family, too, had faced loss and betrayal. Cheated out of their property and unwelcome by relatives in Delhi, Bhag’s mother, a proud and educated woman, refused to burden others. She led her children to the Kingsway Camp, determined to rebuild their lives. Bhag, who had passed her matriculation exams, began teaching and volunteering at a social services camp, helping other refugees navigate their new reality.
It was in this shared space of struggle and survival that Balraj and Bhag’s paths crossed in 1948. Their meeting was not marked by grand gestures or cinematic romance. In an era when courtship was restrained, their connection began with stolen glances across relief tents. As Bhag later recounted to her granddaughter, Aanchal Malhotra, they would simply look at each other, their feelings unspoken. “No movies, no dinners, uska zamana hi nahi tha,” she said, reflecting on a time when such outings were uncommon. Yet, their bond grew quietly, rooted in shared experiences of loss and hope. For Bhag, it was love at first sight, though she carried it silently in her heart. Balraj, driven by a determination to rebuild his life, found in Bhag a kindred spirit.
In the years following their arrival in Delhi, Balraj and his brothers took on whatever work they could find. They sold coal at train stations, peddled fountain pens in Chandni Chowk, and later secured a contract to print and distribute government publications. Balraj worked at a pen shop in Chandni Chowk, but his ambitions stretched further. He dreamed of owning his own store, a place where he could carve out a future. In 1951, when Khan Market was established as a “refugee market” to support displaced families, Balraj saw an opportunity. With the help of his employer, a Congress politician impressed by his work ethic, and a loan of 800 rupees secured by selling one of his mother’s gold bangles, Balraj acquired a small shop for 200 rupees—50 as security and 150 as the lease. In 1953, Bahrisons Bookstore was born.
The bookstore began modestly, with Balraj’s personal collection of 1,000 books lining the shelves. He sought advice from Prem Sagar, owner of Lakshmi Bookstore in Janpath, who guided him in transforming the empty shop into a haven for readers. Balraj, affectionately called Bahri Sahib, sat at the cash counter, notepad in hand, meticulously noting customers’ reading preferences. His vision was simple yet profound: to provide every book lover with the book they sought, no matter how obscure. Meanwhile, Bhag worked as a junior clerk at the Ministry of Rehabilitation, her steady income supporting their household as Balraj poured every rupee earned back into the bookstore.
Their love, nurtured in the refugee camp, deepened through these early years. Every evening, after closing the shop at 10 p.m., Balraj would cycle to India Gate to buy a jasmine gajra for Bhag. She would wear it in her hair, the fragrance lingering through the night, a quiet symbol of his devotion. “My hair always smelled of flowers and his love,” Bhag later recalled. In 1955, two years after the bookstore’s founding, they married, cementing a partnership that would shape both their lives and Bahrisons’ legacy.
Bhag was more than a supportive spouse; she was an integral part of the bookstore’s growth. During her lunch breaks, she would rush to Khan Market to manage the cash counter, balancing her government job with her commitment to the family business. In 1968, she made a bold decision, leaving her secure position and government quarters to join Balraj full-time at Bahrisons. The couple moved with their three children to Safdarjung Enclave, building a life intertwined with the bookstore. Together, they expanded the shop, acquiring adjoining spaces and growing its collection to include history, politics, biographies, and more, attracting a clientele of diplomats, politicians, authors, and book lovers.
Bahrisons became more than a bookstore; it was a cultural hub, a place where readers connected, authors signed copies, and ideas flourished. Balraj, with his grave voice and stately dignity, was a beloved figure, known for his courtesy and sharp memory for titles. Bhag, whom he affectionately called “Madamji,” brought warmth and resilience, her presence a steady force behind the counter. Their son, Anuj, joined the business in 1978, followed by his wife, Rajni, and together they carried forward the family’s vision. The bookstore expanded to multiple locations across Delhi, Gurgaon, Noida, Chandigarh, and Kolkata, maintaining its reputation for sourcing any book, no matter how rare.
The couple’s love story, preserved by their granddaughter Aanchal Malhotra in her book “In the Language of Remembering” and the bookstore’s own ‘Chronicle of a Bookshop’, is inseparable from Bahrison’ s history. Aanchal, an oral historian, captured Bhag’s memories of those early days—the jasmine gajras, the quiet glances, the shared struggles. Balraj’s dedication to his customers and Bhag’s unwavering support created a legacy that endured beyond their lifetimes. Balraj died in 2016 at 87, and Bhag, who continued visiting the Saket store into her late 80s, died in 2023 at 91. Even in their absence, their spirit lives on in the shelves of Bahrisons.
The bookstore, now 70 years old, remains a family-run enterprise, with Anuj and Rajni at the helm. It has weathered the rise of e-books, online retailers, and the COVID-19 pandemic, adapting while staying true to its roots. Anuj, who began working at the store as a teenager, emphasizes personalized service, a lesson learned from his parents. The shop’s staff, many of whom share a passion for books, continue to build relationships with customers, from academics to celebrities like Arundhati Roy and William Dalrymple.
Bahrisons’ story is one of resilience, love, and the enduring power of books. From a refugee’s dream, funded by a single gold bangle, it has grown into a cultural institution, furnishing the libraries of generations. Balraj and Bhag’s journey reminds us that even in the darkest times, hope and determination can create something extraordinary. As Anuj reflects, the bookstore is a tribute to his parents’ vision, a sanctuary where readers find not just books, but a sense of belonging.
