What a Teenager Taught Me About World Book Day

“Don’t blame yourself,” I consoled the teacher.

I had just finished delivering a talk at a school in Dubai. It was World Book Day in 2022, and my role was to inspire children to read more—and perhaps write more too. It was a good talk. You always know, don’t you?

In the end, an angsty teenager (we have all been there, haven’t we?) took it upon himself to show me that he knew better. And I let him—after all, learning to express yourself is where writing begins.

He questioned why he should write, saying it would never make him rich. He declared I was not well-off. He remarked I was not famous, for he had never heard of me. He announced that reading was boring and OTT platforms were better. He advised me, in good faith, to find another job.

He enjoyed the spotlight, and I knew it was best to leave it at that. The teachers were embarrassed. I was calm.

As I sat in the cab, all I wanted was to get to my writing desk. I wrote.

That night, I received a DM on Instagram—it was the teenager. He gloated: “I killed it today, didn’t I?”

I replied, “You did. You wrote your first character sketch, congrats!” And I left it at that.

He messaged me again, almost a year later: “I am working on a short story.”

I replied, “I killed it last year, didn’t I?”

I could tell you what he said next—or I could leave this story just here.

As I write this, I look back at the many World Book Day celebrations I have been part of, and I find myself wondering how we, as a community, continue to uncelebrate this day, this profession, this passion.

As parents, we spend on a “book character” costume, but forget to buy the book—often at a fraction of the cost.

As institutions, we invite authors to inspire young minds, yet hesitate to offer an honorarium or even place their books in school libraries.

We make a spectacle of the day and tick the box that it has been celebrated.

As a society, we tell every child who dares to dream of becoming an author that it is a hobby—and that they should focus on a “real” career instead.

As an author, I don’t say it often enough—on a Monday, a Tuesday, or even World Book Day—that I have one of the most meaningful jobs in the world. It comes with its share of challenges—but then, what doesn’t?

And yet, this year too, there will be Matildas and Potters on April 23. Many of them will never have read those books—or know who wrote them.

Perhaps a few of us will think of buying or reading a book. Many will continue to deny authors their due under the guise of “exposure.” And just like that, we will let another opportunity slip—the chance to build a generation of readers, and maybe even writers.

As for me, I will sit at my writing desk and, with quiet warmth, remember the day I refreshed my Instagram inbox and received the first short story by a young author.

About the author: Purva Grover is a storyteller at heart, always carrying a book like a lifeline and writing only in Calibri 11. She has been a journalist for 19 years and an essayist, diarist, and creative entrepreneur. Lately, she finds herself stepping back, even as she heads magazines, writes on Substack, and wonders what comes next. Backed by a master’s degree in Mass Communication and Literature, she has published four books—so different that even she sometimes wonders where they came from. She remains stubbornly passionate about anything that begins with Once Upon a Time… Her work stretches beyond print: podcasts, talks, theatrical collaborations as a playwright and stage director, art-led projects, and interdisciplinary storytelling are all part of her creative playground. In 2021, she was awarded the UAE Golden Visa by the Dubai Culture & Arts Authority and recognized under the People of Culture and Art—Writer category as part of the inaugural Class of Creators. Purva isn’t an influencer—she’s a storyteller, driven by memory, curiosity, and an enduring hunt for her favorite word. She lives and writes in Dubai, UAE, with her husband, where she also runs a literary society dedicated to nurturing readers and fostering community.