Apu’s World

To the lady (or gentleman) who landed on my blog four times, and by googling “The effect of not wearing Mangalsutra” each of these times, let me assure you from personal experience:

No, there is none. Your husband is not likely to pop off (or, if you are male, no, your life is not in danger). You’re not losing out on any good vibrations or other such pseudo-scientific benefit you may have been assured of.

In short, no effect. Not unless you count the disapproving looks of your mother, father, grandparents, sundry aunts and uncles as “effects”. Hope I have helped clear your mind a little.

(You may also find this post useful: Demonstrating Marriage - the comments in particular are very interesting and perhaps a reflection of the changes happening in our society.)

apu Women & Feminism

Over at Savadati, Shweta Krishnan has a short story, ‘All that Glitters’, which among other things, is on the humungous amount of money and jewellery that parents are expected to spend on daughters’ weddings. While it is true that parents spend an enormous amount of money on getting daughters married, it also set me thinking about a certain kind of ‘girls-only’ parents - i.e. couples with only girls as opposed to those who have boys or a boy + girl combination.

I have absolutely no data on this and am speaking only from people I see around me - but it sometimes occurs to me that, parents who do not have any sons are actually better prepared for life post retirement. I am of course talking mainly about people from the middle class and upper middle class, who have had the opportunity to save some money; not poorer people who would not have been able to save even if they wanted to.

When it comes to this class of people, it appears as if those who do not have sons are actually more self-reliant and better financially as well as mentally equipped for life after retirement. Why? Because, all their lives, they have lived with the assumption that they will have to fund their old age themselves. Because they do not know what sort of families their daughters will be given into, whether those families will allow a daughter to help her own parents. (And lest you think this is the sort of thing that happens only in movies - I can easily recall a bride-seeing ceremony where one of the questions that the groom’s educated and affluent parents had was: After the wedding, whom will the bride hand over her salary to?) Because a daughter’s support during one’s old age is still a pleasant surprise, a bonus - not something that can be assumed.

So, they plan their expenses much more carefully, they lay by a nest egg for themselves, perhaps they even skimp on things when they are younger. Of course, this is not entirely a bad thing, because it always feels good to feel financially comfortable and independent. Parents who have sons, on the other hand, often seem to feel a certain comfort that their old age will be taken care of. Which may or may not happen. Stories abound in India, of parents left destitute. Even if not driven to poverty, there are certainly parents who do not get the financial support from their sons, that they had anticipated.

The current generation of urban 50 year olds will perhaps be the first generation to start breaking away from the traditional Indian belief in children being an investment for one’s old age. Add to that the fact that disposable income, and therefore investments and savings have grown, allowing people to manage their lives better. (An interesting article, Why the elderly should matter to marketers, that reflects the growing affluence and purchasing power among a small segment of Indians.)

apu Other Social issues in India, Women & Feminism

There are murder mysteries that are all about the murder; tightly knit, with a closed group of suspects and a detective moving the spotlight from one to the other - think Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. And then there are murder mysteries where the murder is just part of the tale; where it really becomes an excuse to look at a larger setting and in the process of solving the mystery, gives us something quite different. Aditya Sudarshan’s A Nice, Quiet Holiday was one such enjoyable work, and this week, I’ve had the pleasure of reading another such work by an Indian author : Madhulika Liddle’s The Englishman’s Cameo.

Set in the opulent, yet fading Mughal court of Emperor Shahjahan,  The Englishman’s Cameo is part murder mystery and part historical novel, for its charms lie as much in its descriptions of life in the Mughal era. It’s protagonist is Muzaffar Jang, a somewhat atypical Omrah (nobleman) who prefers spending time with his books, pets and lowlife friends rather than indulging himself in wine, women and song, unlike other notables of the era. Thanks to one such disreputable friend, he finds himself involved in a murder mystery that soon turns out to be more complex than imagined.

Liddle excels in descriptions of Mughal era Dilli and its noble citizens - their wealth, decadence and hollowness are beautifully captured and the story itself set against the backdrop of an Empire whose best days are behind it. Against this backdrop, she also gives the characters some very natural dialogue that in English, nevertheless manages to create an image of the formal, beautiful Persian that must have been spoken in court. The Englishman’s Cameo is unlike a tightly knit murder mystery where one knows that the murderer will be chosen from an already introduced cast of characters. Here, instead, the plot keeps widening so that motives and murderers are quite unclear until the end.

I’ve never been a fan of tightly defining genres and elevating some books as literary while considering others mere genre fiction. The Englishman’s Cameo proves that a good genre fiction book can be as well-written and perhaps much more interesting than some books that claim literary merit.

Publisher: Hachette India

Price: Rs. 295

apu The Literary life