Most Mumbaiites who treat themselves to books know each shelf and every corner of Strand. Even those who don't fancy reading know of Strand. It is, as a budding writer said, a lovable fixture on the cultural map of Mumbai. He hopes his effort will be on one of those shelves soon. And Shanbag, having read it in his trademark speed-reading style, will probably recommend it to a large circle of customer-friends too. It's his habit, a habit formed 50 years ago when Strand was merely an idea in his head.

The story of Strand isShanbag's story itself. As dramatic as a Mahasweta Devi narrative. Those were the days when Mumbai housed a mere 11 lakh people and a Penguin paperback cost one rupee. A college-going Shanbag, who had spent a fortune of Rs 27 and many valuable months on the eight-volume complete works of Swami Vivekananda, walked into a famous book shop near Victoria Terminus with just enough money to buy two Penguins.

The salesman thought hard about letting an obviously poor man in and turned him away with harsh words. ``I had tears in my eyes,'' says Shanbag, ``I went to the nearby Irani restaurant, had two cups of tea. At the end of an hour, I had decided to sell books.''

Ideas often race ahead of reality. There was no space available, if it was he didn't have the money to rent it, he didn't know how and where to source books, he knew nothing about commissions and credit, he didn't even know people who would lend to a migrant. But the idea stuck in his head and became stronger as he spent leisurely afternoons readingunder shady trees in the Prince of Wales Museum compound. Lazily one evening, he walked to Strand cinema to see Cheaper by the Dozen. The ticket was wasted but the Book Stall was born.

Fifty years ago, it was merely a corner in the theatre foyer. With a princely Rs 450, Shanbag had a kiosk made and bought books from Macmillan, Oxford and other outlets to make a respectable 300 titles. Harold Laski's Grammar of Politics was his first sale. ``That's because I knew the book and talked about it to the person who came,'' he says.

It was a clever technique. He read books while a film was showing and recommended it to those who strolled to the kiosk during interval. Later, he sold books to Pandit Nehru (with a two-line review of each), T T Krishnamachari, Sir Ambalal Sarabhai and such greats. The goodwill he earned from Justice M C Chagla translated into a recommendation for a proper shop -- the one Mumbai knows.

Among Strand regulars are the Mahindras, poets Dom Moraes and Nissim Ezekiel,historians and scholars like Dr Rafiq Zakaria and Sharada Dwivedi, writers Shashi Tharoor, Khushwant Singh and occasionally V S Naipaul, Reserve Bank of India governors and an illustrious line of editors.

``Strand is a habit,'' says Dwivedi.

The spread is vast -- from coffee table volumes on Caucasian Carpets to Encyclopedia Brittanica on CD-ROM and best-sellers. J Bronowski's Ascent of Man has sold the largest number yet -- 17,000 copies.

Shanbag now has a cavernous 14,000 sq.feet warehouse, a shop in Bangalore and more ideas in head. ``I want to do literary activities, say a luncheon with Marquez for his fans in Mumbai. I want to sell children's books at one-tenth the price.'' he says.

One thing he will never do: sell gift-wrapping paper, toys and music with books. Coffee, may be? Shanbag shrugs, ``those who want coffee will go elsewhere; books people will continue to come.''