This novel has left me thinking that in India, principles/morals are a luxury seemingly few can afford. The story illustrates how the political system in India works, mostly at ground level, how favours are exchanged, how preferential treatment is given or withheld, the massive difference it can make to lives. Issues of right and wrong and facts barely get a look in despite the characters mostly being ordinary people with ordinary consciences. It shows the discontent and struggles of regular lower-middle and/or working class people – a school teacher, a wannabe actress, a salesgirl, etc. – who when tested, mostly do not manage to refrain from taking advantage of an opportunity to better their lives even if it involves harm to others and wrongdoing, because they see few other moral/legal avenues left to them. The novel sets up the situations rendering the choice being between staying stuck always in an undesirable situation and scraping by, or accruing respect, a little measure of fame even, and of course, greater affluence and social mobility.
For all that these issues of networking, bribery and corruption and underhanded politics could easily be so complicated and tortuous to explain, kudos to Majumdar for delivering a very easy-to-read novel comprising 3 protagonists and 3 intertwining storylines, set in Kolabagan, south Kolkatta. The novel begins with the torching of a train at the Kolabagan station. Jivan, our young protagonist, is a Muslim and a slum-dweller who lives with her parents; her father is a rickshaw driver, though injured now, and her mother carried bricks in construction work, and does any other kind of work she can find to support their household. Jivan herself is aspirational, wants to be upward mobile. She works at a shop called Pantaloon which sells clothes and suitcases and other items, and is very proud of owning a mobile phone.
And I was moving up. So what if I lived in only a half-brick house? From an eater of cabbage, I was becoming an eater of chicken. I had a smartphone with a big screen, bought with my own salary. It was a basic smartphone, bought on an instalment plan, with a screen which jumped and credit which filled when I could. But now I was connected to a world bigger than this neighbourhood (p38-9).
It is on this phone that Jivan reads about the train incident on Facebook, and incautiously posts some comments critical of the government. Shortly afterwards, she is arrested as a terrorist, or at least part of the terrorist conspiracy, arrested and made to sign a confession which she was beaten into doing. She is subsequently jailed.
Lovely is the next protagonist, a hijra, who is taking acting classes, and was also learning English from Jivan. Lovely is, of course, a hijra name, which Lovely selected at their 18th birthday at a ceremony “where I was becoming a real woman”. Lovely was a boy in their youth, who wore boys’ clothes and played cricket, but liked to use lipsticks and saris. They said,
We were neither rich, neither poor. Once a month we were going to the movie theatre after eating rice and egg at home. The popcorn counter was not existing for people like us (p124).
Their father and uncles threw Lovely out of the family and the house for being unnatural, and they found their way to the hijra house. Having watched a gender change operation done badly and eventually ending in death, Lovely decides not to undergo the operation,
So I was sure I was never wanting the operation. I was wanting to stay a half-half my whole life (p129).
Lovely’s chapters are always written in that strange manner using the present tense, perhaps indicating their illiteracy and lack of education, and the colloquialism of their speech. Lovely is very spirited, and when insulted or otherwise, sometimes bides their peace, but sometimes gives as good as they got – when some boys stare, Lovely teases,
’You want to visit my bed, just tell me!’ They are ashamed and giggling at the floor, holding scissors in their hands. In this life, everybody is knowing how to give me shame. So I am learning how to reflect shame back on them also” (p98).
The 3rd protagonist is PT Sir, a physical education teacher at a school which Jivan once attended. Indeed, she was one of his favourite students, until she left school abruptly, which affronted him because he felt she lacked gratitude to him. When PT Sir sees on the TV that Jivan has been arrested, he believes she has been involved in terrorism, because she left school without telling him. (Lovely, on the other hand, believes in Jivan’s innocence and assures Jivan’s mother she will testify to that effect.) PT Sir gets involved with a political group, almost by accident, and they use his respectability as a school teacher to give false testimonies in court, to convict people whom they otherwise do not have evidence to convict. In return, PT Sir gets small favours from the politicians, such as getting the school’s drainage system sorted out, as well as other perks and benefits, which makes him feel like a big, important man. Majumdar’s novel illustrates over and over the corrupt ways in which the system works – or does not work – whether it is in courts, hospitals, schools, or anywhere else. PT Sir does more and more favours for the party, and they give him more and more rewards, until the party’s leader wins and becomes a Chief Minister, thus being the rising tide which also raises PT Sir’s fortunes.
There are some touching sections on how Jivan’s father who badly needs medical treatment, is often overlooked and dismissed, because of his humble status, poverty, illiteracy, etc. Jivan speaks up for her father and sometimes manages to get him a little medical treatment, just through her spunkiness and grit. There are some lovely short sections on Lovely’s struggle to remain true while being overawed by ambition. Then there are some ugly sections usually called Interludes which are not the storyline of any of the three protagonists, but seemingly the voice of the masses or the crowds, which depict mob violence and murders. The language is kept deceptively plain and simple, almost holding the characters at arm’s length as if we the readers are watching puppets on a stage, but without stereotyping or objectifying the characters. It is a story which indicts systems in India and illustrates their capacity for abuse and violence. A very unusual book in all, quite a charming read, and it makes its point very well, tying up the plot neatly by the end. A good book and I look forward to more by Majumdar.
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