First Impressions
SUCHITRA BEHAL
SANJAY SURI'S book is a huge dose of nostalgia. It transports one back to Britain in the late 1970s — a massive Indian population stuck in a time warp, as if the needles on their clocks stopped the minute they landed in this alien country, desperately sticking to their ideas of culture and values. Their homes were almost always the same — small square rooms, lace net curtains. Plastic flowers on the radio covered with a lace doily in the living room. The overpowering smells of achars, bhajias and paranthas mingling with English deos and perfumes. It should have been a happy amalgamation but it wasn't quite that. There was a feeling of being unloved, unwanted. A fear that future generations would turn awry, become more like the white neighbourhood and not retain their Indianness. Remember Gurinder Chaddha's brilliant film "Bend It Like Beckham" — two young Indian girls striding down the streets of London nattily dressed and suddenly bobbing a "sat sri akal auntyji" greeting?
Instances like this abound even today. Suri's book captures many such details but somehow there is no fiction here. It's cold hard facts. He has drawn an almost comprehensive and composite map of Indian Gujaratis and Punjabis based on their traditional vocations and their tiny little islands where even under the modern arc lights of a swinging city they manage to keep a firm hold on their young. Those that go astray are talked about in hushed tones and looked upon almost as traitors to the cause.
So there are the Wanzas, the Swaminaryans, the Ravidassas, the Krishna followers and many others. Each sect has its own place of worship and its own community meeting place.
It was interesting to learn that even the Gujaratis were subdivided into many sects with each one insisting that their young marry into the sect. Suri has penned portraits of these communities after having spent a lot of time amongst them. That in itself is no mean achievement. However there are times when the reader's interest flags and Suri would have done well to tighten up the process.
THIS is a short collection that traverses between sheer poetry, pain and at times humour. But never absurdity. The common thread in all these stories is humanity.
Particularly striking is "The Two Lady Rams". A simply crafted story rich not only in detail but also human foibles, it is based on the knighting of an Indian where the British Government in its attempt to follow protocol does not recognise the fact that their recipient has two wives. Both want to be called "Lady Ram" but how will this happen? While the master of the house worries about the practicalities of the strange situation and is unable to resolve it, his driver comes up with the most feasible suggestion. And thereby hangs a tale.
Similarly in "Man Whose Name Did Not Appear in the Census", an old man lives in perpetual fear of the government or the creditors knocking on his door. So when there is another knock one night, he refuses to open up. His disgusted wife opens the door to a census officer. But the illiterate man refuses to give his name and address fearing other repercussions at which point the official merely stomps out saying that this man does not exist.
Mulk Raj Anand writes with an amazing understanding of his characters. The moods shift and so do the situations but each story is like a little gem.
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