ahore is a city of writers and poets, books, newspapers, magazines, and of booksellers and news hawkers. There was a time when frequenting a place like the Pak Tea House or Shezan restaurant in the Dayal Singh Mansion, or Shezan Continental in the Dinga Singh Building or a book store like Ferozsons, Vanguard Books, Classic, or Peoples Publishing House around the Mall, meant running into some of the city’s famous writers and poets.

In the Hazuri Bagh – the great lawn within the quadrangle of Lahore Fort and Badshahi Masjid which also has the tomb of Allama Iqbal, the country’s foremost poet and philosopher – storytellers and mystics still gather to recite poetry or narrate tales on afternoons as the sun descends across the walls of the Fort into Lahore’s endless urban sprawl.

Moving outside the Walled City, on the outer periphery close to Lahori Gate is the Urdu Bazaar which was once the sub-continent’s publishing lifeline. It remains the main hub of all types of the book business in the country and home to many publishing houses. Sang-e-Meel, now one of the largest publishing houses in Pakistan, was once located on Circular Road. The shop offered the opportunity to browse imported books and enjoy delicious food, that is, if you happened to be there during lunchtime, because its dynamic owner, the late Niaz Ahmed, an enterprising bookseller, was also a large-hearted host sharing his meals with everyone.

Shaikh Ghulam Ali, located on Hospital Road next to the Mayo Hospital, was another big publishing house and one of the largest printing facilities. Many Lahori children of 1970s and 1980s would remember the picture of the publishing house imprinted on the first page of small-sized children’s books.

As one moved into the Colonial Lahore, Ferozsons, housed in Ghulam Rasul Building, on The Mall close to the Charing Cross was a landmark – the double height large hall, fans hanging from thin frail-looking long rods and cross patterned black and white floor with its cool environment would provide a pleasant break from the noisy Mall and Lahore’s summer. (Ghulam Rasul was a Tarar whose descendants included one of the modern painting pioneers, Moeen Najmi). The children’s section was located towards the back end. There, they also had a counter to collect subscriptions for their monthly children’s magazine Taleem-o-Taribiat. Next to Ferozsons, another large book shop opened in the late 1980s. It was named Mawara and owned by poet Khalid Shareef. Mawara is still around.

A few blocks away on The Mall, one could find Vanguard Books, located in a dilapidated colonial shop. Here, one could browse and buy books imported from across the border. When its owners Najam Sethi and Jugnu Mohsin started publishing the weekly The Friday Times (TFT), it was also the place to go to for browsing the latest edition.

Glancing through newspapers or magazines, even books, is a habit encouraged by most book shops the world over. In Lahore, the news hawkers would hang the front and back pages of newspapers with a clip or lay them on the footpath for people to read. Paisa Akhbar market was the central place for businesses to pick the morning papers in the early hours of dawn and distribute them through a network of cyclists across the city. With readership divided mainly between Imroz and Nawa-i-Waqt, the entry of Jang in Lahore’s market was a big occasion. Among the English language papers in Lahore, the publication of The Frontier Post and Dawn was received with much excitement. The fading away of The Pakistan Times was a cause of remorse for its devoted readers.

Sang-e-Meel started publishing my father Mustansar Hussain Tarar’s books in 1983, including his travelogue Khana Badosh - a narration of a 1975 road travel from Lahore to London. Sang-e-Meel also brought about a revolution of sorts in the book business by meticulously publishing both a series of district gazettes from the colonial era, and older manuscripts like Talism-i-Hoshruba. They then moved to the Lower Mall area in a larger premises across the Nasser Bagh and Government College, that is now hidden behind a maze of flyovers.

When Sang-e-Meel started representing other leading authors, visiting it became more fun – the extended lunch hours - sometimes afternoon book inaugural events - brought the literati of the city together. In those events I met, A Hameed, Mirza Adeeb, Masood Ashar, Abdullah Chughtai (the elder brother of painter Abdur Rehman Chughtai), Munoo Bahi and lawyer Abid Hassan Manto, among others.

The presence of creative individuals and thought leaders and book shops is the grist that grinds the larger wheels of the identity and history of a city.

Writers Ashfaq Ahmad and Bano Qudsia were a literary power couple and much sought after back then. Ashfaq Ahmad would build interesting conversations captivating his audience. Bano Qudisa was the quiet type but both exuded wisdom. I visited their aptly named house, Dastan Sarai, in Model Town, a few times. Model Town is still one of the best-designed neighbourhoods from the pre-1947 days. Other luminaries like the revolutionary poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz also lived there.

Another power couple of Lahore was poet Kishwar Naheed and writer Yusuf Kamran. Their home in Krishan Nagar was a place of hectic social gatherings. There I met the famous poet, teacher and scholar of the Persian language Sufi Ghulam Mustafa Tabassum. Sufi Tabassum’s poems for children were taught in junior school, the main character in his poems for children is a child named Tot Bataot who fantasises about all things loved by the children of the 1970s and 1980s, like a cold soda and eating nuts. Sufi Tabassum recited his poetry to me a few times in those gatherings of adults and listened, I am sure with some level of boredom, to my rote recitals of his poems. Upon Sufi sahib’s death Faiz Ahmad Faiz reportedly said that after him, he was not sure who to consult when faced with a doubt about correct Persian or Arabic usage.

Allama Iqbal Town was a new neighbourhood in the late 1970s developed by Lahore Development Authority. Some parts of it were allocated to journalists, writers and poets. Naheed and Kamran moved to Allama Iqbal Town from the older neighbourhood of Krishan Nagar. Writers Zulfiqar Ahmed Tabish, Dr Salim Akhtar, Rafiq Doogar, and Jilani Kamran also lived in Allama Iqbal Town.

In those days it was rare for children to accompany parents to social activities but I had the privilege to tag along with my father to most places. I have fond memories of spending hours reading Ishtiaq Ahmed’s unending children’s series Inspector Jamshed at Kishwar Naheed’s house, sitting next to my father during discussions that sounded boring to me. A visitor from another town would often elicit these gatherings. If a foreign writer like Gopi Chand Narang or artist MF Hussain was gracing the occasion, it would become a mega event. It was also there that I came across Bapsi Sidhwa, author of Crow Eaters, a Lahore resident, who in those days was a budding writer.

Abdullah Hussain, one of the most important 20^th Century writers and author of Udaas Naslain having lived most of his life overseas moved back to live in Lahore’s Defense Housing Society in the 1990s. He would visit our house and the next stop would be Sang-e-Meel. My father would drive him there.

Pak Tea House was probably the most important hub for intellectuals and activists to meet and its smoke-filled two floors were the place to be for any Lahori who toyed with the idea of creative or intellectual pursuits, or had the urge to be in the company of men and women of letters. Its waiters remembered most of the regular clients. Some of the people I recall among dozens of hazy faces are Zahid Dar – a man who only read books all his life, Enver Sajjad, Intezar Hussain, Nishat Fatima, Javed Shaheen, Israr Zaidi and Salahuddin Mahmood.

Halqa-i-Arbab Zauq, one of the oldest literary associations, would hold its session at the Tea House. The frequency of my visits to the Tea House increased when my father was elected secretary of the Halqa in the 1980s. In those meetings, my interest lay in the bicycle shops outside the Tea House besides the dream of devouring one of the delicious signature lamb chops offered by the Tea House.

The Shezan restaurant in the Dayal Singh building on the Mall was another meeting place. With a view of the Mall from its windows, it was a relatively upscale eatery.

The Liberty Market, Shadman Market and Fortress market were relatively new areas then. Each had its own bookshop like the Variety Books on the corner of Liberty Market, which exists to this day.

Lakhsmi Mansion, a historic compound behind on the Hall Road crossing, housed a number of intellectuals and dynamic residents. We lived there till 1981. Its most famous resident remains writer Sa’adat Hassan Manto. Leftist poet Zaheer Kashmiri lived next door on the Beadon Road and would always be attired in a suit and red tie even in summers.

In the mid-1980s my father created a group called Fiction Friends. The group would meet at our home in Gulberg III and later at other writers’ homes. It was devoted to discussing works of fiction only. Nisar Aziz Butt, Agha Suhail, Jilani Kamran, Fakhar Zaman, Jamila Hashmi and Kishwar Naheed attended the meetings.

Poet Shehryar once visited us. A royal visit by novelist Quratulain Haider, then the most famous Urdu writer, was a momentous occasion of my childhood. Poet Munir Niazi had a rare friendship with my father and would regularly call him in his last days.

The office of Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi, poet, writer and one of the leaders of the Progressive Writers’ Movement, was located at the corner of the Mall next to the Pearl Continental Hotel. From there, Qasmi sahib would edit his magazine, Funoon. In his late years, his birthdays were celebrated with much fanfare at Avari Hotel. The offices of other literary magazines – like Mah-i-Nau edited by Kishwar Naheed, Siddiqa Begum’s Adab-i-Lateef, and Azhar Javed’s Takhleeq – were also located in Lahore.

Basant, the kite flying festival in spring, would bring many celebrities to Lahore. Poet Ahmad Faraz, though not an adapt kite flyer himself, celebrated once with us and caused a ruckus on the neighbourhood rooftops.

Much before the advent of current literary and cultural festivals Muzaffar Ghaffar started the Lahore Arts Forum and organised a series of literary and cultural events every month at the Model Town Library and at the extension of Alhamra Arts Council, next to the Gaddafi Stadium. The monthly newsletter of LAF events received through regular mail was a thing to look forward to. The LAF was diverse, inclusive, representative and pretty egalitarian.

Nayyar Ali Dada’s Nairang Gallery also provided a space for holding literary activities. When famous musician and scholar Khwaja Khurshid Anwar died, Faiz Ahmed Faiz presided over a memorial event at Nairang.

Anarkali’s old book stalls or Sunday old book market was, and is still, a useful reservoir of foreign magazines and books. With my brother Sumair and friend Raza Rumi, I spent many a winter Sunday morning looking for bargain books.

Readings on Gulberg’s Main Boulevard emerged as a test case and is filled with book lovers, its coffee shop was frequented by the late Mohammed Kazim – a scholar of Arabic, late Shahid Hameed who translated Russian classics like Tolstoy’s War and Peace in Urdu, and Ikramullah among others. Ferozsons, Readings, Liberty Books and others have more than one branch in the new mega-shopping areas of the expanded Lahore. Vanguard Books has evolved into Books and Beans. Some of these book shops have decent spaces to organise events and offer coffee for patrons. The younger generation of writers and poets mostly frequents these places.

There is a certain sense of pride that one exudes having lived in Lahore. This sense comes from having lived in historically and culturally rich urban centres like Istanbul, Cairo, Rome, London, Amsterdam, Paris or New York. One learns about literature, arts, culture, and architecture. The presence of creative individuals, thought leaders and book shops is the grist that grinds the larger wheels of the identity and history of a city.

Mohammad Saeed, a former editor of The Pakistan Times, writes in his memoir on Lahore that it was an honour to live in the city at a time when poet Iqbal, orator Atta Ullah Bukhari wrestler Gama lived there. For my generation, too, Lahore’s writers, poets and intellectuals remain a source of continuous pride and honour.

The writer is an art critic and a diplomat. His First book All That Art on Pakistani contemporary art was published last year. He can followed on Twitter @suljuk