'The Ex-Daughters Of Tolstoy House' Shows The Horror We Carry Within

 [First published in YouthKiAwaaz]

On the face of it the Sehgals are a perfect family. Living in a sprawling mansion in Lutyens’ Delhi, Ambarish (the brilliant doctor), Meera (his beautiful wife) and Sujatha, Kavita and Naina (their three devoted daughters) could be the object of envy. They go on frequent holidays, move in the right social circles and present the picture of a closely knit family. But beneath the polished exterior lurks a gruesome secret- the daughters have been taught to soak up human blood from the floor and hold it in their bodies till it is ejected out during their periods!

The book begins with Naina, the youngest daughter now in her forties, being summoned by her father to clean up the blood pooled around the dead body of her mother. Though Naina was clearly warned not to lift the pallu covering her mother’s face, she couldn’t resist taking a peek and saw that a neat circle of skin had been cut away from her cheek. After this dramatic beginning, the book settles into the story of a fairly regular family. There is almost a cinematographic quality to the narrative, with small and seemingly insignificant details building up the scene.

This is a family seeped in patriarchy- Ambarish controls how the family dresses, eats, behaves and even thinks. When he insists that his wife wears the exquisite saree he got for her, the control seems almost benign, but there is no escaping the fact that the house is run according to his rules. Meera is constantly cross-guessing herself in an attempt to anticipate his wishes and please him, and it is clear that she will prioritise winning his approval over what is actually good for her daughters and herself.

Gradually the macabre makes an appearance, but though those incidents are gruesome, true horror remains in the soul of the people. While you are repulsed by many of the incidents of pure evil, when you reflect on the book, you realise that what is truly revolting is the choices that human beings make.

The book is narrated through the alternating viewpoints of Meera and Naina. Since the story begins with Meera’s death, Naina’s story follows a conventional timeline, while Meera’s is a series of flashbacks. Naina is the classic victim who wants to escape her emotionally abusive father, yet finds herself repeatedly drawn back to him whenever she has an act of kindness done to her.

Meera struggles with the anxiety of thinking she is inadequate for her talented husband, and her life is one of finding ways to bind him to her, and drawing her daughters into the pool of his “protection”. The book is a exploration of emotional abuse within families and of how easily generational trauma gets passed on.

The writing is so assured that is hard to believe that ”The Ex-Daughters of Tolstoy House” is Arunima Tenzin Tara’s debut novel. While reading the book, my mind kept skipping back to that other great debut novel, Mary Shelly’s “Frankenstein”. If one invented the genre of Gothic novels, the other carries the tradition forward with pride.

This is one of the most disturbing books I read this year. By using the backdrop of an affluent household to tell a chilling story of abuse and violence, the author has proved yet again that the true horror is the horror within us. While this may not be a genre that is appealing to most people, I would recommend this book to anyone who loves to read books that expose the human soul.

I received a review copy from Speaking Tiger, and this is an unbiased review.

Understanding The Self Proclaimed Decedents Of 'The House Of Awadh'

 [First published in YouthKiAwaaz]

A family, headed by Wilayat Mahal, claiming to be the descendants (and rightful claimants) to the Kingdom of Awadh made headlines in the mid-1970s, when they ensconced themselves in the first class waiting room at New Delhi Railway station, and threatened to remain there till the properties of the erstwhile royal family were given back to them.

While the legitimacy of the family was questioned, the nature of the demand and the bizarreness of the mode of protest caught the attention of the public, and the story was often picked up by the media. The family continued to be the subject of an occasional story even after they were finally settled in a ruined hunting lodge in the Ridge Forest in Delhi.

Each of those stories focussed on the eccentricity of Wilayat Mahal and her family, and on the contrast between their tall claims and the penurious conditions in which they lived, and off the odd juxtaposition of their luxurious furnishings against the grand ruins. Though the family made interesting copy, none of the reporters made an effort to verify their claim of royalty or tried to understand what made them tick.

What stands out in Aletta André and Abhimanyu Kumar’s “The House of Awadh: A Hidden Tragedy” is the empathy with which they approach the subject. Unlike others who projected the family as an extreme example of the exotic and eccentric Indian Royals, André and Kumar have, through reportage, interviews and scanning archival material, not only attempted to verify Wilayat’s claims but also tried to understand what motivated her to seek the kind of life they sought.

The book is divided into three sections- in the first part, they recount the story told in the voices of the family and their trusted retainers, in the second part, they trace the history of the Awadh dynasty and the many claimants to the title of “rightful heir”, and in the third section, they try to unravel the history of Wilayat Khan before she turned up at the railway station claiming to be the rightful heir. They have meticulously traced down people who knew Wilayat in the many stages of her life, and have not only documented the stories, but analysed them deeply to try and pierce together how and why their attitude, beliefs and actions might have changed over the years.

Though the book is the story of Wilayat Mahal, it is also a story of displacement, loss and changing loyalties. Her story encompasses the trauma of Partition, the attempts at building Pakistan and the search for a new life and identity in India. Wilayat Mahal had deep ties to Kashmir, and the book goes deep into narrating various stages of the Kashmir issue through the lived experiences of people.

The book is meticulously researched, yet at no point does it come across either as drab reportage or as sensationalism. The authors have put personal narratives in the proper historical context to tell a story that is compelling and non-judgemental. Where Wilayat Mahal and her family frauds, or were they merely victims of trauma- we will never know for sure, but this book will certainly lead us to certain conclusions.

I received a review copy from Harper Collins India, and this is my unbiased review.