If you see a bunch of people earning a bunch of money, what do you do? You try to take it away from them, naturally. In this, it does not matter whether you're black or white - greed is a great leveler.

What is Jaal talking about? Over the past decade, Indian writing in English has become hot property around the globe. Witness the sales that Salman Rushdie, Vikram Seth, and Arundhati Roy register in not only the USA and England, but in unlikely places such as Norway, Japan, and Brazil. It is only natural that publishers in the West figure that Indian writers are ones to be invested in, given the likelihood of rich returns in terms of global sales. Hence we've heard of the six-figure advances to Seth, Roy, and even untested products such as Raj Kamal Jha, whose atrocious offering - The Blue Bedspread - made it evident what reckless gamblers the publishing world is filled with.

All this is fine. However, what Jaal has learnt is that of late, various unscrupulous elements have been looking to milk budding Indian authors of these fat advances in the name of helping them get discovered by the Western publishing world. It starts with the former editor of an Indian publishing house (and occasional butter chicken writer), who has decided to set up a company in India, to help first time authors. He promises to look at manuscripts, and help the authors work on it into a product likely to be commercial in the West. He also promises to then hawk the manuscript around to publishers in London and New York. Not for free, however. He is charging a whopping 25 per cent of whatever the author earns. A far cry from the standard eight to 10 per cent charged by literary agents in the West.

Though the last statement may be changing, as far as Indian authors are concerned. A certain English literary agent, whom we'll just call Gillian, has also gotten into the act, publicising the fact that her area of expertise is Indian fiction, and that she can successfully hawk any manuscript in London - for a stunning 30 per cent. These people know they have Indian authors by their metaphorical balls. For unlike authors from the West, Indians are not well travelled, not having the resources to do so. So they have no contacts in the publishing industries of the West. So for them, the entire thing is an amorphous unknown, for which they need the help of literary agents. And two first time authors have already decided that they have no choice but sacrifice whatever earnings are left after taxes to such agents, in order to possess that ever chimerical of qualities, enduring fame.