I finished reading this last night. I like well written short stories and this had 9 really cute ones. 7 of them had the experiences of Indian immigrants while "The real Durwan(the real gatekeeper)" and "The treatment of Bibi Haldar" are set in Kolkatta and deals with the fickleness of people in the way they treat Odd people. Ok, maybe I am a bit biased for liking the stories with Indian Immigrants more than the other two but it feels good to know that I am not alone in my feelings of discomfort, displacement, marginalization, that feeling of not being rooted,weakening of bonds, awe, admiration and disgust and therefore can continue to be less arrogant when it comes to my Uniqueness. I am getting better at rooting but it still feels like I am on Quaking Ground.
In " A Temporary matter" an Indian couple living in the US with hardly any support system holding them up deal with a Miscarriage. The emotions the Husband and Wife go through are mostly typical of what I have seen in the "Quiet Generation" - the ones who quietly endure without making those around them a party to their emotions. Emotions they bury in the darkest corner of their being beneath the everyday things to do. The Contrast she used is ingenious. The contrasts of Power-cut, sitting in the dark while revealing things that the other did not know and the Light outside while the couples kept each other in darkness about their own emotions and actions is nicely done. The end lets the reader draw their own conclusions, are they going to stay together or go their own ways.
"When Mr. Pirzada came to dine" is about an Indian family befriending another Indian until that Indian becomes a Pakistani/Bangladeshi. It is set in the partition era, a time that is tumultuously etched in the memories of survivors, it explores the experience through the eyes of 10 year old American born Indian kid. I haven't yet met people, originally from the Northwestern Frontier of India or the Bengal region, from that era who don't carry a Mighty Scar. They are now really old but they have stories that are more gory than the Horror movies at Hollywood could churn out. They are either bitter or glad for coming so far in their lives but mostly they have tears while they narrate their experiences. It is painful when I try to imagine their lives, so it must be beyond just painful for the person.
My favorite story is "Mrs. Sen's" and "The third and final continent". Mrs. Sen's explores the experiences of an Indian housewife in the US as seen through the eyes of a 11 year old American Boy. Guess you know why I liked it.. like her, I am afraid of driving on the highway. Like her I miss home, my cousins, relatives, friends, people I grew up with, its colours, its smells, its festivals, temples etc... Like her I couldn't go to my grandmother's funeral. Like her I tend to fall back on clothes, pots and pans, glass bangles, dishes, masalas from India. There are a lot of things that I am afraid of doing, in this land of the free, which to me is Irony in its glory. Although now I feel more like an alien when I go back home, its still home for me. "The Third and final continent" is about emotional attachment to an old lady that a young Indian feels. It shows the restraint that he exercises as he wades through the cultural differences. This touched me simply because I have been there. Being brought up in a place where Respect for Elders are shown through a hierarchical code of obedience and how we sit and talk with them and do things for them etc., it becomes very difficult to put that conditioning away when we come to a different culture where Elders prefer to have their own life without the "encumbrances" of having to live with someone younger who takes care of them. I understood his attachment and affection well.
I enjoyed the stories... I would recommend it for a quick, light reading. They don't deal with the immigrant experiences in Depth but it scratches the surface enough to show how it is, through the eyes of a wide range of ages and people.
4 comments:
I'll add it to my shelf.
These stories are indeed about you in many ways it seems. I can understand the feeling of 'being within and without' a country, finding neither in sync with you. As I delve more into polarities, I feel I can recognize the polarities here... and how you are caught. Trying to gain balance and peace when you have difficulty reconciling your inherent needs in a place where you can find little solace, is like every so often, bashing your head against a wall. You will always be found wanting, and hurting.
There is a reason you are here.... :)
That is so true. For the most part I feel blessed for whereever I am but there are times when there is an ache I cant really put to words. It doesnt make any logical or practical sense, but I cant be rid of it. After all justifications and excuses are said and done, the conclusion usually is "its not the same as home".
Yes, I do believe there is a reason I am here... if only I could figure that out... for now I have comfortably settled it with the borrowed answer "I am here to work out my Karma, I owe the people presently around me some debt and have to recieve some credit"
I envy that you come from a country of your own. I was born here but I often feel as if I am not a part of my own country, which is ironic considering I am indigenous. A "Native American" adopted into a Mexican American family growing up in a small town where the population is mostly white; I could identify with my family's heritage only through other members of the family and some close friends of the family. I remember visits to El Paso, Texas to see one of my Uncles, and we would cross the border into Mexico. I had never felt so "at home." I could identify with these wonderful people and even though I could not speak Spanish, I felt entirely comfortable. I suppose had I not been adopted, I would have been raised on the tribal reservation, and I would have had complete exposure to my indigenous culture. And if I had grown up in a big city, my family might have been situated where there were many other Mexicans, and that would have made a difference too. But I grew up "different" in a white majority, so I can identify with that feeling of not being rooted. I am 46, so I can still remember the days when there was a more obvious prejudice against minorities. I still encountered this well into the 80s. Times have changed though, and things are much better these days, but I still get a longing in my heart to identify and be among people who can identify with what I know in the Mexican culture.
Post a Comment