Apu’s World

For a long time, it seemed to me as if all Indian writers in English wrote “serious” things - complicated stories, language that needed some getting through, “big” themes, weighty tomes. And then came Chetan Bhagat and the many followers in his footsteps, who unleashed upon us a spate of poorly-written novels, mostly to do with engineering institutes and adolescent angst. It seemed as if one could either have 5-star hotel caviar or roadside vada pav; if you weren’t in the mood for the first and couldn’t stomach the second, poor you!

Luckily, times are changing. In the last couple of years, Indian writers in English are attempting every possible genre, including murder mysteries and graphic novels. There is a growing market for well-written, yet easy-to-read fiction, which is probably why Penguin has brought out a new series, Metro Reads, dubbing them “fun, feisty, fast reads.”

One of this series, Paritosh Uttam’s Dreams in Prussian Blue, would probably not qualify for the ‘fun’ bit, given its somewhat serious story, but it fulfils the rest of the criteria. Dreams in Prussian Blue is the unconventional love story of art college dropouts, Naina and Michael. The novel sticks to a small group of characters and does that well - while Michael is the anti-hero, Uttam takes the reader to the darkness behind seemingly ‘nice’ and bland characters as well.

The bonus is that while the story is novel and the characters real, the language is simple enough for the average reader. A live-in relationship, a selfish artist, a naive young woman who realizes that love and fresh air may not be enough, the Indian art world, nosy neighbours and traditional parents who can no longer hold on to their children -  the plot moves forward quickly, and kept me engrossed wanting to know what happens (and plenty does!) The dialogue works too, with the lingo of the 20-something crowd captured well.

It so happened that the last few weeks, I’ve been snowed under work and reluctant to take on anything too complicated. Dreams in Prussian Blue fits perfectly into that sort of mood - when all you want is a good story.

Publisher: Penguin India

Price: Rs. 150

apu The Literary life

A week or so ago, through a Facebook group, Amazing Passages from Favourite Books (totally worth checking out, btw), I revisited Tonight I can write the saddest lines, one of Chilean writer Pablo Neruda’s best known poems.

In the Youtube video above, it is being read beautifully by actor Andy Garcia. (Isn’t it amazing how sometimes, less is more when it comes to a performance?)

From the poem, these lines stayed with me, Love is so short, Forgetting is so long. Indeed, in that one line, it can be said that Neruda has summed up all of human existence, or at least a big part of it.

Love is short. Many things break it up, and I’m not just talking of romantic love. Blood relationships break less easily, but even there, there is plenty of scope for complexity. While we like to eulogise the unconditional love between parent and child, even there, there is and can be jealousy, anger, sometimes even apathy. (We need to talk about Kevin is a book that looks at one very dark parent-child relationship - it’s a book that sent shivers down my spine when I read it).

So yes, love is short - people change, things change and worst of all, death happens. Inspite of this, we invest of ourselves in many relationships. Sometimes, I feel as though our love and passion for certain people makes us impervious to the fact that there is no such thing as forever.

Logically speaking, we know that heartache will find us, sooner or later, but we prefer not to think about it. Is this bravery or foolishness, I am unable to say. All I can say is that forgetting is so hard.

apu In General, The Literary life

Penguin First Proof is an annual volume by Penguin that aims at promoting the ‘best new writing’ from India. I haven’t read any of the first four volumes, but volume 5 goes some way to convincing me that it’s worth looking out for this series annually.

‘Some way’, because while the anthology covers wide ground - non-fiction, fiction and poetry - it is uneven ground. What is interesting is that it doesn’t include just new writing in English - it includes translations from Indian languages, though these are fewer compared to the pieces written in English.

It is the non-fiction that made me feel let down - somehow, it feels as though many of the pieces were chosen for their content than for any literary merit. Bisakha Datta’s The Many Lives of Roma D is a nuanced and vivid portrait of a sex worker in Kolkata, while Aditya Sinha’s Natural Desires details with wit an uncomfortable father-son relationship that is unique in its particulars, but surely familiar as an idea to most Indians.

These were the exceptions. Pieces such as Krupakar and Senani’s Kidnapped, based on the authors’ kidnapping by the sandalwood smuggler Veerappan and Satnam’s Jangalnama, an account of time spent with the Naxalites felt dull, never quite moving beyond a literal account. Curiously, both these are translations, from Kannada and Punjabi respectively, so I wonder if this insipidness was a function of the writing or translation.

It is in the fiction that Penguin First Proof 5 really works. K.R. Meera’s Ave Maria, the first story in this section is the story of a despairing and dysfunctional Malayali family set against the backdrop of the Communist movement in the state in the 50s. After ploughing through the uninspiring non-fiction, it prepared me for what was to come. For, each one in this section is a short story worth reading - beautifully written and laying bare with a sharp scalpel a character or mood or moment.

Apart from Ave Maria, my favourites here were Batul Mukhtiar’s Your Room, a sad story of a sad relationship (written with so much grace and delicacy) and Aditya Sudarshan’s The Imaginary Friend, a story that anyone who has ever been exasperated with a child will relate to. (Aditya Sudarshan is one writer I would like to read more from, having enjoyed his debut novel, A Nice, Quiet Holiday as well).

As for the poetry, I’m going to reserve specific comments, because, although I did not enjoy it too much, I don’t trust myself as a poetry reader!

Publisher: Penguin India

Price: Rs. 250

apu The Literary life

Came across this article in the Hindustan Times on Trinidad & Tobago’s new Prime Minister, and - just look at that headline, “Indian-origin granny is PM of Trinidad’. Really? I mean, her being a granny is so critical to her achievement? They couldn’t find anything else to play up? Not that there is anything problematic with being a granny but quite why a female politician’s personal life/status should make the headlines when reporting on her win is beyond me. This would be like commenting on David Cameron’s win saying Father of 3 is UK PM! But of course, that won’t happen.

Another article, this one in an apparel & fashion blog, brings up the same-old-same-old, boring question, Were Indian Women Better Off as Homemakers? (Really, there should be a ban on this one!) The writer proceeds to answer his question with the following arguments:

1. We had our mother waiting for us at all times which played a very important role in our overall development.

2. Children, husband and home were in ‘harmony with life’ (whatever that means).

3. Divorce rates are rising now.

4. More nuclear families, hence security of the joint family missing.

5. Added responsibility for women since they have to manage both work and home.

Let’s dissect this a bit. Points No. 1 and 2 - children happy, husband happy, ‘home’ happy - what about the woman herself? No mention of that. Ah, I suppose this falls into the category of I live for my husband and children and don’t seek any happiness beyond that. Point 3 - yes, divorce rates are rising, but as I have argued before, divorce isn’t necessarily worse than an unhappy marriage. Which is what women were once forced to live with.

Point 4 - safety of the joint family - well, most adult women who have lived in joint families don’t have good things to say about them - the bickering, the politics, the one-sided control by ‘elders’. It’s only kids who have a rosy picture of joint families. Read the inimitable IHM’s post here on why young Indian women don’t like joint families.

and Point 5 - all the men who feel so sorry for women who have to balance the dual burden, here’s the thing - WHY DON’T YOU GET UP AND HELP?

Blah.

Finally, a lovely piece by Amrita on the hapless women of Indian Television, over at Women’s Web.

apu Women & Feminism

Cross-posted at Women’s Web

Former Haryana DGP SPS Rathore has finally had his sentence extended from a measly 6 months to well, a very-slightly-less-measly 1.5 years. No doubt, there is some justice here for the family of Ruchika Girhotra, a young girl who was driven to commit suicide due to the harassment suffered not just by her, but by her family.

Yet, most of us know that while one Rathore has been sentenced, there are scores of others who get away with impunity - they are never charged or the victim’s family is encouraged to ‘compromise’ or simply browbeaten into dropping the case, especially if the accused is an influential man.

While the Indian judiciary has to be commended for its many forward-looking judgements in such cases, the fact remains that the law in India moves at an intolerable pace. The impact of this is naturally much higher on the poorest and weakest sections of society as well as on women.

Those from low-income groups simply cannot afford the expense needed to come to court a hundred times, nor the time needed off from work. Those from so-called lower castes are often forced to drop cases, for fear of violence or social ostracism. And women? Women are encouraged to ‘adjust’ and make peace, either to ‘protect their honour’ or that of the perpetrator.

I read this account a long time ago, where a woman who was harassed on a train journey and went on to file an FIR realized what an ordeal it was just to get to filing an FIR in an Indian police station. And this was an educated woman, aware of her rights, a journalist with a reputed publication and therefore a person with some leverage. What happens to those with no such leverage is well-known - their cases don’t even get started.

So, unless the government is serious about police reforms and the judiciary really gets their act together and start moving much, much faster, sentencing one such man is of no use; it may give some courage to other such victims, but we need to do much more to ensure that no other young woman feels the need to end her life.

(This case also shows why we need separate child abuse laws; let’s not forget - Ruchika was 14 when she was molested. In all civilized societies, there is much heavier punishment for abusing children, who are among the most vulnerable classes in society).

apu In General, Women & Feminism