FIRST IMPRESSIONS
IT is unusual for a book to be based on a film. But Amu is exactly that. The author first scripted her film by the same name and then was persuaded to write a book. Her story is short and simple. When Kaju graduates from school in the U.S., she decides to visit India. Kaju is wonderstruck by what she sees in this diverse country. But she also realises that just like she is never quite at home in the U.S., here too she is an outsider. Undeterred, Kaju decides she must see some of the "real India" and even though her cousins and their friends scoff at her "typical" reactions she carries on. When her mother, now in the U.S., learns of her daughter's escapades, she packs her bags and lands up in Delhi unannounced.
As Kaju keeps going back to the slums, questions of her own heritage and her birth parents haunt her. She is determined to find out who they were and how she ended up being adopted by her other mother. In doing so, she discovers the terrible truth of the 1984 riots and how they traumatised hundreds of lives in the city. Kaju finally comes to terms with her mother's predicament even as she discovers her roots. "Amu" forces the reader to take stock of issues normally brushed under the carpet. Written in a clear and lucid style, Amu looks at complex family relationships as well as the changing values that affect urban dwellers. Like its protagonist, Amu has no pretensions.
Amu, Shonali Bose, Penguin, Rs. 200.
THIS has been called a "rare example of literary cross dressing". But, like all things different, there could be extreme reactions. As East meets West, there is a take on every conceivable setting and every other literary character that one may have encountered. Thus, Shakespeare is reduced to Sheikh Piru. So, dear reader, here is a constellation of literary figures that suddenly warp and weave themselves into other avatars. But in a world that is gone awry, often this is labelled as creative genius. Except when creativity overreaches its ambitions, it can get horribly wrong. There is a smattering of Hindu mythology, the Renaissance and just about everything else that one can dream of. It also presumes that everybody knows their Shakespeare as they do their Mahabharata. In case you don't, avoid this one and even if you do, you may need to spend long hours agonising over the tale.
Eastwords, Kalyan Ray, Penguin, Rs. 275.
FOR those initiated into Urdu writing, Intizar Hussain needs no introduction. He often remarked that he was a traveller to the land of Buddha as much as Allah and it was his personal quest of these sensibilities that shaped his writing. His subtle sensitivities leave the reader to draw conclusions that comment on caste and creed. In this slim volume, the short stories may at first glance appear dated, but a more critical perusal offers a rare insight into the workings of society as well as the ticking of the human mind. Thus with "Kela" the writer not only focuses on the woman's plight but also discreetly touches upon the subject of Hindu and Muslim relations. In "Away from the Camp" he explores the loss of self. Hussain's experiences often allude to migration, which was a theme he was most familiar with. To those who have read his works earlier, this is an excellent compilation and for those who may pick this up to read him for the first time, it offers a glimpse into the mind of one of the sub-continent's finest writers.
Stories, Intizar Hussain, Katha, Rs. 250.
Here is an eye opener, which painstakingly details the effect colonial powers had on the domestic life of Bengali babus and their wives. Its sheer magnitude surprises, as do the topics chosen. But this is no fiction. Written much in the style of the ever-popular Mrs. Beeton's manual on good housekeeping, this book chronicles the minute details in which Indian households changed with the ever-increasing influence of the colonial powers.
There are manuals on how to rear children, what relationship husbands and wives must have; how to decorate the house, what to cook and when. Presented in a dialogue form, most of these manuals were set as conversation pieces between husband and wife, he as the supreme mentor and she as the ever willing receptacle of his knowledge. Despite the tedium of some of these compilations, the interactions reflect the degree of change that the Bengali bhadralok were willing to introduce into their staid and conservative domestic lives. The nine articles, written by both men and women, show how completely the Raj swept away any vestiges of ethnic culture.
How to be the Goddess of Your Home, Judith E. Walsh, Yoda Press, Rs 375.
SUCHITRA BEHAL
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