Friday 27 March 2015

Many Indias

Indian literature and the short story are literary terms that are highly contested, theorised and yet have shifty definitions. A Clutch of Indian Masterpieces, edited by David Davidar, is an attempt to bring both these literary terms into the lexicon of modern reading. A collection of 39 stories, this book endeavours to chronicle and curate an introduction to the modern Indian short story practice.
The anthology begins with a story by Rabindranath Tagore and ends with one by Kanishk Tharoor — thereby charting the entire course of the modern Indian short story tradition in its temporal reality. In the fairly extensive introduction, Davidar explains the process of shortlisting these 39 stories from the larger oeuvre of the Indian writing tradition.
He talks about the challenges of curating the contents of this ‘clutch’, including problems of claiming stories from the oral to the written form, issues of translation and the loss therein, re-translation of some stories, choosing what to include and what to discard. The introduction is a primary component of the book, before one begins to make sense of the stories and what they are trying to say.
Davidar has carefully picked those Indian stories that have stayed with him through years of reading.
The collection includes popular heavyweights like RK Narayan, Sadat Hasan Manto, Khushwant Singh, the controversial Ismat Chughtai, Amrita Pritam, the budding Kanishk Tharoor, and other writers such as Shashi Tharoor, Upmanyu Chatterjee and Githa Hariharan. This book covers a wide range of literary writing and themes.
While Tagore’s and Vaikom Muhammad Basheer’s stories touch upon supernatural experiences, Premchand, Gopinath Mohanty and Anna Bhau Sathe give a glimpse into poverty. UR Ananthamurthy, Vijaydan Detha and Mahasweta Devi speak of the rural, tribal and indigenous experience through their stories. At the same time, Amrita Pritam and Nisha Da Cunha talk of infidelity.
Simultaneously, stories of Ismat Chughtai and Amrita Narayanan give an insight into homosexuality and explore women’s sexuality. Stories like that of Vikram Chandra and Thakazhi Sivasankara Pillai detail the craft of writing and reveal the delight in expanding an experience into words.
The anthology includes stories that have been translated from numerous Indian languages, including Malayalam, Urdu, Oriya and Marathi apart from, of course, stories written in English.
However, inclusions of literature from the north-east region, Jammu and Kashmir, Himachal Pradesh, Goa and Gujarat would have made the anthology more comprehensive. Nevertheless, with its wide array of themes and the ability to capture the universal struggles within India, the collection serves as a guide to Indian consciousness.
While dealing with supernatural experiences in Tagore’s The Hunger of Stones and Basheer’s The Blue Light, the reader learns how susceptible we can be to hearsay and rumours. In Anita Desai’s Games at Twilight, nostalgia gently runs through a reader’s mind. Similarly, there is an ache and longing for the old world in Sundara Ramaswamy’s Reflowering and the romanticisation of a simple tribal life in Ruskin Bond’s The Blue Umbrella.
Premchand’s The Shroud and Anna Bhau Sathe’s Gold from the Grave, while dealing with issues of poverty and religion, also tell of the starkness between the haves and have-nots. Mahasweta Devi’sDraupadi complicates this struggle by introducing the gender factor into a battle between tribes and the administration. Hari Shankar Parsai’s Inspector Matadeen on the Moon satirises the political and administrative system and launches a scathing attack on corrupt governance in a fictional world through the introduction of police reforms on the moon.
The book is sensitive to the pulse of realism and, at the same time, it offers moments of introspection, romance and nostalgia. Just like India, the book too is eclectic, varied and wide-ranging. Each of the stories is a representation of an Indian reality. Therefore, there are many Indias created in the book — each one unique and different from the others. Each story gives a sense and flavour of its rootedness, which no book of history or anthropology could.
The stories encourage the reader to explore the authors and writings from their respective regions. For example, after reading the Oriya story in the book, a reader will be tempted to read other Oriya writers, such as Tapan Kumar Pradhan’s award-winning Kalahandi.
A Clutch of Indian Masterpieces prises open the entire world for a reader interested in Indian writing. It gives a snapshot into the various worlds India inhabits within it and encourages readers to read more. Davidar’s painstaking curation has the potential of defining India’s literary canon.

Saturday 21 March 2015

Tenduf-La gently probes the racism of East & West

Chhimi Tenduf-La's debut novel The Amazing Racistoffers a straight-up, charming and funny story that is concerned less with intellectual razzle-dazzle than with being intelligent and endearing in its own simple way. A realistic portrayal of how the Sri Lankan society reacts to the socially odd phenomenon of a native and a white foreigner in a relationship, this is a book that glides past your eyes even as it is being supremely witty. Indian readers, in particular, will probably resonate with a lot of it.
The novel explores the intricacies and complications of a mixed marriage between an English man and a Sri Lankan woman. The awkwardness of Eddie, the rebellion of Menaka, the uptight relentlessness of her uncle Thilak; all of them create a reality that is so typically Sri Lankan that one cannot but remember the author's own story. Tenduf-La is half Tibetan and half English. Having married Samantha and stayed in Sri Lanka over the years, the author has had ample opportunity to explore the culture that he manages to reflect in his debut novel. This novel, then, is primarily about Eddie trying to negotiate the space Sri Lanka is; politically, geographically and culturally.
What is striking about the book is the ease with which Tenduf-la makes Sri Lanka available to the reader. As an "outsider" writing about the world he has now made his home, it is interesting to see how he has inverted racism. As a white (or "yellow", as he calls himself in the book) man in Sri Lanka talking about Sri Lankan reality, Chimmi is expected to have a racially superior voice; to try, in a way, to dislodge the white man's burden in a geographically decolonised space. He is expected to romanticise the land, the people and the culture; to give voice to the voiceless, the formerly colonised. What Tenduf-La does superbly is to invert this scenario.
The Amazing Racist is also remarkable because despite having a white narrative voice (Eddie Trusted) who explores an ex- colony through his personalised story, a major chunk of this novel is devoted to the personality of Thilak. Thilak's towering presence and his maneuvering with Eddie's personality to make him a subject of Sri Lankan reality rather than vice versa, strips the entire discourse around colonialism and decolonisation bare and immediately reverts it.
Eddie, trying to digest a spicy Sri Lankan curry or exploring the beauties and culture of Sri Lankan architecture, is the perfect foil to a native Sri Lankan who studies in an English medium school and tries to be as western as possible, so he can make peace with development and the sort of thing that could be considered material success.
A native dominating a white man and asserting racial superiority of the former over the latter is a rare sight. Tenduf-La has achieved this through what one could call "awkward racism". It is this dissection of racism that steers the plot of this novel.
However, this novel is also about love and families and how one reacts to familial ties and relationships while trying to assert and safeguard a self-respecting individuality. In that sense, though set up in Sri Lanka, The Amazing Racist is as much a story about Sri Lanka as it is about India or Afghanistan or Iran or any other country or society seeped in cultural nostalgia and the inherent feeling of superiority that comes with cultural chauvinism. The story, thus, has a more universal appeal: it tells us that societies reluctant to shed the baggage of their cultural mores are confusing their obstinacy with ideas of "purity" and "superiority".
On the whole, Tenduf-La's book is a delightful read. It is entertaining and meaningful in its portrayal of subtle politics; within families, personal equations and, of course, statecraft.
In the words of the author, "The book is a combination of my journey and various people, me included. Certainly the love of my daughter is in that book."
Though the book does not delve deep into the war or the other nuances of Sri Lankan politics, it does brush upon questions that have haunted the Sri Lankan reality for so long. In fact, come to think of it, these sporadic comments may well be a trailer to the next book Tenduf-La is working on, which will investigate deeper into the political milieu of Sri Lanka, through its child soldiers.
If you are a South Asian reader (if there exists a definite definition of South Asian-ness, that is), this book spells rib-tickling fun. If you're not, you'll still find plenty to chuckle about.

Saturday 7 March 2015

Reclaiming the road and hitching a ‘pink’ ride this Women’s Day

Summoning a cab with just the click of a mouse (or a tap on a smartphone) may be a reality of the world we live in. But to think the same about an auto rickshaw seems like a luxury even today, despite the fact that auto rickshaws are far more visible and ubiquitous than cabs in any Indian city. When
www.autowale.in began their journey in Pune, it was an unheard of affair. It was this gap that the duo from IIT Kanpur ­— Mukesh Jha and Janardan Prasad — tried to address, way back in 2011. Today, connecting almost 1,000 rickshaw drivers, ferrying almost 10,000 passengers a day within Pune, autowale.in is an exemplum of entrepreneurship with a vision beyond money-making; that of making para-transit an easier, more professional and more convenient affair.
This International Women's Day, autowale.in are rebranding themselves as "pink". The hoods of each auto-rickshaw under their banner will be coloured pink to send a strong message about Autowale's commitment towards gender-sensitive transit traffic on roads.
Janardan Prasad, the COO and co-founder of Autowale, says, "Women feel safer in auto rickshaws than in cabs. This was a surprising find for us. Much before the unfortunate Delhi Uber case, we found it increasingly persistent to tailor-make our para-transit network to expand it substantially to women travelers — attract more passengers as well as re-instill faith in our already existent customer base. We thought that going pink on Women's Day will be an extremely positive move in this regard."
After the Delhi Uber rape case, one realised how unsafe the confines of a cab are. Women learnt, to their horror, through debates in traditional and on social media, that auto rickshaws are much more organised and systematised in terms of maintaining and verifying records of drivers. Police verification of drivers is a very process-oriented activity. The network of cabs, on the other hand, has no such tediousness associated with the registration process. So much so that a cab driver working across cities easily manages to drive in a new city as well, without the hassle of documentation and verification work. It becomes easy to imagine why the process of complaints' redressal is much easier and convenient for auto rickshaws, as compared to cabs.
Prasad says, "The Uber incident made us reflect... If we had a robust transit network of auto rickshaws in cities like Delhi, the incident would not happened at all. It is with this thought that we realised that entrepreneurs like us, working on improving transit traffic on roads, need to send a strong and positive signal to our women passengers in making auto rickshaws a preferred mode of transport in cities. This International Women's Day, apart from merely appearing pink, we will also offer free rides to women travellers in our auto rickshaws and carry our awareness campaigns around corporate and residential locations."
Delhi roads are currently being transformed by the extremely affordable rides offered by apps such as Ola. But however robust a system one works out with cab service operators, the sheer openness of travelling in auto rickshaws makes the experience relatively safer (there's always the option of jumping out of an auto rickshaw in case of an emergency). So an innovation like www.autowale.in should, in some way, change the state of public transport in the city. While similar applications do exist across cities, Autowale in currently only in Pune. However, following a successful pilot project in Bangalore last year, plans are in place to expand Autowale to 20 cities by the end of the year, spreading to as many as 100 cities by next year.
It's worth pondering over: Why do women not claim roads as aggressively as they put their feet forward in claiming office spaces? Why is it that, while we try so hard in creating a feminist discourse around the country, we hypocritically alienate specific professions and spaces as less respectable and less honourable? One of the reasons why crime happens against women on roads is also because there are not enough women drivers and women managers of transit traffic on our roads.
Sheela Kamble, one of the first woman auto rickshaw drivers on Indian roads, says, "Women need to realise that working in offices is not the only way to be employed and that this discrimination should end from we think of gender equality and claiming equal treatment. When I drove on roads, I came across so many women and men marvelling at the fact that I chose this profession. But for me, this was just another job. I did not want to make and sell pickles. Why does making that choice make me special?"
"It is really empowering that women like Sheela are at the forefront," says Prasad, "trying to propagate a gender-neutral perspective not only from the confines of an elite round-table seminar but from a vantage point where they have worked, experienced and seen it all. Our going pink is also an exercise in venerating such strong women and creating a whole discourse around gender-sensitive and gender-neutral atmosphere on our roads."
Kamble adds, "Apps such as these not only help passengers but also auto rickshaw drivers because it becomes easier for drivers to get their problems addressed. The fact that passengers can also cheat and misbehave with drivers is not registered in the public imagination."