Apu’s World

Is this a paradox, or simply a coincidence, that just as things are heating up with Pakistan in the aftermath of the 26/11 attacks, Pakistani writers are everywhere in our media? Daniyal Moinuddeen, Shahbano Bilgrami, Nadeem Aslam - you can’t turn a Sunday magazine page, it seems, without an interview with or profile of one or other promising writer from the other side of the border. And of course, one can’t forget Mohammed Hanif, one of the earlier ones in this gaggle, whose A Case of Exploding Mangoes created such an impact last year, with its almost-Booker and its highly political plot.

Somehow, I have come in late to the Booker party, partly out of a decision to read the books a little later, once the hype died down and there wasn’t a new review in the papers every other day. Reading so many reviews quite takes the pleasure out of reading. Ironical of course, considering that I am writing one myself now, but I do wish there was some way to read and enjoy literary reviews without letting that enjoyment impinge on one’s own reading of the book. Readers who know of any such fool-proof method are requested to please share kindly and much appreciated etc etc. 

Reading A Case of Exploding Mangoes, some time after its launch, this reader is pleased to report that the highly complimentary reviews that one read, are well-deserved after all. For starters, Hanif draws us into a murder mystery, and in this case, not the murder of your average Joe, but of Zia-ul-Haq, the infamous Pakistani dictator. And then, to make it more interesting, he stands convention on its head; unlike a conventional whodunnit, which must follow a funnel mechanism, starting with a cast of suspects and narrowing down to the perpetrator, Hanif starts with the victim (General Zia) and goes on widening the cast of suspects, until, at the end, we are still unsure whether the murder was the handiwork of one, two or more people or even an Act of God. 

Ali Shigri, a young army cadet convinced that his father was hounded to death on Zia’s orders, his friend and lover Baby O (Obaid), a blind woman wrongfully imprisoned, a crow sent as bearer of her curse, second-tier army generals scheming their way up - all have their hands dipped into the plot, and where A Case of… excels is in bringing all these threads together so skilfully, that at no point does it seem an effort. Particularly excellent are the chapters that look into the workings of Zia’s mind and the workings of the Pakistani army and secret services - as if in parallel to each other, both Zia’s mind and the army he commands, are whimsical, paranoid and frequently out of control, with consequences mainly for those on the lower rungs of society.

Occasionally, the friendship (romance?) between Ali and Obaid gets a bit unsatisfying; Hanif takes understatement too far with the result that the reader is left on the boundary of the friendship, unable to really get a grip on whether Baby O is an “important” character or not. This is one of the flaws in the novel - at times, Ali Shigri is such a dispassionate narrator and there are so many other narratives peeking in, that it is difficult to feel any empathy for him and those he loves, including his father Col. Shigri and Baby O. General Zia, ostensibly a negative character is dealt with far more sympathetically. His paranoia, his occasional buffoonery, his trouble with worms, his religious convictions bordering on superstition are all calculated to make us feel anxious for the man and what happens to him  - this is where the novel’s crowning achievement is - to take a ruthless third world dictator and transform him a human being. A Case of Exploding Mangoes is worth reading just for this exposition of one flawed human being. 

apu The Literary life

Written some time ago, now published at Ultraviolet, my review of Salma’s Irandaam Jaamangalin Kadai. a novel almost entirely about women, in a close-knit Muslim community in Tamil Nadu.

apu The Literary life, Women & Feminism

Regular readers of this blog may have noticed that I haven’t been posting or answering comments for a bit now. The reason is, there has been a sad event in my family, the death of a young cousin, in an accident. Death is hard to accept in any case, but this was a completely unexpected and shocking event. While we have life, we feel as though we own it; we think that it belongs to us. But, at moments like this, there is a true realising of what people mean when they say that life is fragile. Life is fragile. It is, one moment, and then the next, without any warning, it isn’t. It doesn’t belong to anybody, it is nobody’s handmaid. And nothing, nothing, nothing that any of us can do or say, can change it one tiny bit. That is very hard, and very bitter to accept. My aunt and uncle, whose loss it is, are coming to grips with this reality in the bravest manner; but, they are only human, and any amount of realisation cannot keep grief away.

At the moment, I feel disinclined to engage with anyone but my closest family and friends. I am not sure therefore when I will return to blogging. I may come back next week, or I may not. Even if I do, I may or may not open comments. Ideally, I’d like a nice, deep well to sit in, like Toru in the Wind-up Bird Chronicles. What a coincidence that Kripa talked about it in the comments section of one of the posts just a bit ago.

Anyways, I’m going to finish what is now becoming a highly personal post. I have only one request - whether you are Hindu, Muslim, Christian, whatever - could you say a prayer for the soul of this young boy, and even if you don’t believe in a soul, could you please remember him in a quiet moment? Thank you.

apu In General

When hooligans in the guise of cultural activists thrashed women in a pub, one response I saw in a few Internet forums was, “Why are we devoting so much time to protecting people’s rights to drink? After all, drinking is not a necessity”. When they threaten those celeberating Valentine’s Day, we are told that Valentine’s is after all a Western import, a luxury - not a necessity. Somewhere, there is a feeling that these are all activities that only matter to an elite few and are therefore not worth defending. These are just “options” we are told; we don’t really need them. 

But living? Is living an “option” too? A luxury? In one of the saddest things I’ve read recently, a 15-year old schoolgirl in Dakshina Kannada committed suicide after being harassed by the Hindutva brigade. Her crime? Daring to be friendly with a Muslim man.  In a bizarre twist, the man has been charged with abetting suicide. The State Government, in what seems to be the norm, is yet to act with any decisiveness. 

Shame on you Yeddyurappa! You have blood on your hands. 

apu Women & Feminism

Remember the shameful incident at the Gateway of India, 2 years ago on New Years Eve, when a young woman was groped and stripped by a mob, and the whole incident recorded on camera?  Inspite of all the publicity it got, turns out the case is going nowhere. 

For one thing, the victim hasn’t pressed charges, which police say makes it difficult to register a case of molestation. One can of course say that if educated urban women are not going to stand up for themselves, then what hope do we have? On the other hand, it is worth thinking about what is it in our system, that makes even educated urban women afraid to press charges. The dismal record of conviction even in rape cases shows that there is something very, very wrong with our police and judicial systems when it comes to handling such crimes. (The record in general is poor of course, but in crimes against women, there seems to be an added element of under-reporting and victims not pressing charges). 

In this particular case, after the outcry, the attackers even held a press conference under the aegis of the MNS, claiming that they were innocent and that the girl in question was drunk. Why that should make a difference is beyond me, but clearly, attacks of this sort play a role in getting the victim to back down. Be a good Bharatiya nari and shut up. While the scum who molest roam around scot-free. 

apu Women & Feminism