Fictionalised Account of the youngest member of the Azad Hind Fauj

 Laxmi Panda: The Story of Netaji’s Youngest Spy, Savie Karnal

I first heard about Netaji’s Youngest Spy in P. Sainath’s book “The Lost Heros” on the forgotten foot-soldiers of the Independence Movement. He described the zesty old lady and her struggle to have herself acknowledged as a freedom fighter, but one remained curious about what led a young girl to join the Resistance. Savie Karnel’s book addresses just that.

Laxmi was born in Burma to Odiya parents who moved there in search of a livelihood. When both parents died during the air raids, Laxmi had to take on the responsibility of keeping herself and her younger brother alive.

This is fascinating account of how a precocious young lady convinces the Azad Hind Fauj to let her join the women’s battalion. Her extraordinary power of observation, her integrity and her ability to connect the dots is responsible for her being chosen to get trained as a spy. While based on a true story, the author has presented it in a fictionalised form, which lends itself perfect to the topic. It was fascinating reading about the women in the Azad Hind Fauj, and I particularly loved the way Laxmi’s character was developed.

I am quite sure the book will appeal to a younger reader as much as it did for me. It will certainly be a great book tp present to the young women in your life.

“The Perfect Cup of Chai”: small acts of gender empowerment

 

“The Perfect Cup of Chai” is necessarily subjective, but I am convinced that it is my son who makes the perfect cup of chai. Just the right balance of water and milk, brewed to the right strength and served in my favourite mug. When he returns home from for the holidays, I give him a day or two to recover before asking him to brew me evening tea!
I didn’t actively set out to teach him to brew tea, though. It was something he picked up on his own, when he realised that I liked to relax with a mug tea right after getting home from work. It started with him rescuing the water I had put onto boil and forgotten about, and before long, I got into the habit of giving him a call when I was almost home so the tea would be ready by the time I finished cuddling the dog after getting home!
It was, however, just sometime he did for me, till I started noticing a trend whenever I had an interaction with mothers’ groups. All of them were bursting with dreams for their daughters. They were willing to make sacrifices to ensure the girls went to college. They were determined to defy society if it demanded that the girls be married off before they were ready to get married. It was easy to get caught up in their excitement- wasn’t that exactly the women’s empowerment that we all hoped for?
But was this really empowerment? By focussing only on empowering the girls, weren’t we actually making it harder for them? Were we pushing them towards a life where they were expected to have a full-time job and also manage the household? While empowering the girls, shouldn’t we also be looking at enabling boys to support the empowered women?
I started telling the women about how my son made chai for me every evening. “Allow your daughters to dream”, I would say, “but also teach your sons to do their share of the work at home.” Because it is only when men and boys learn to do their share of the chores at home that we can move towards a gender equitable society.
[I wrote this as a part of the #BlogchatterFoodFest]

A Crumbling Mansion, A Dysfunctional Family: ‘The Magnificent Ruins’ — Review

 A crumbling mansion which houses a family which is both victim and perpetrator of intergenerational trauma. First published in Youth Ki Awaaz

Summary

After spending her childhood in her divorced mother’s ancestral home, at 16, Lila De moved to the United States to live with her father and stepmother. On her 29th birthday, at a point where her career in a New York based publishing house is poised to take off, she comes to hear of her grandfather’s death and that he has bequeathed the family home to her. Lila takes eight weeks leave to return to the city she grew up in, hoping that would be sufficient time to sort out any issues arising due to the inheritance.

A crumbling mansion, a dysfunctional family

The five story crumbling mansion in Calcutta is home to her extended family. Her newly widowed grandmother, two uncles and their wives, one cousin and her mother all live together in the house- notionally on different floors, but in reality with open doors which anyone can walk through at any time. Her relatives all treat her as a young and immature child- they love her, but do not take her seriously. They try desperately to smother her in their love, yet, are secretly plotting to disinherit her. They vie with each other for her attention, yet each of them keeps secrets from her. Each of them in different ways conveys to her that even though they are legally challenging her right to inherit the property, it is not personal and that they still love her as much as they always did!

At the advice of her lawyer and because she herself wants to, Lila attempts to restore the neglected mansion to its former glory. However, while it is easy to change the wiring and install an elevator, it is much harder to confront her past and to untangle the complex relationships with her relatives. Lila’s mother had been emotionally and physically abusive and as a child she had sought comfort from her grandmother. She now finds that the two women still use her to score points against each other. As she digs deeper, she realises that everything is not as it seems- that the people who abused Lila had themselves been victims of abuse.

The author is at her best when she describes the generational trauma that defines almost every relationship within the family. Many of the characters display multiple behaviours, and you are alternately angry with them for their behaviour and sympathetic towards them because of what they faced. While some of the younger members try to escape the toxicity of the family, you see them falling into the same patterns that plagued older members of the family.

The side plots

While the main strand of the novel Lila trying to make sense of the entanglements within the family residing in the crumbling mansion, her complicated romantic life is also a major plot element. She was in a casual relationship with a one of her writers, but once back in Calcutta she runs into her first boyfriend who though married shows that he is still available. When her writer friend makes a “grand gesture” and follows her to Calcutta, she is torn between the two men. Though not central to the book, this strand sums up much of what makes up modern dating.

The book is set in Calcutta 2015, and the city comes alive through Lila’s gaze. The crumbling mansions, the new apartment blocks, the markets and the nosy neighbours. The book is set against an upcoming election where the ruling Left front is challenged by the rising Right wing, which threatens to disrupt the social order. There are also growing protests against Section 377, and rising fear among the Muslims. While there is an attempt to talk about classism, especially with how the old families treat the household help, not enough was done here, and the book itself might have benefited if it had been left out completely.

I particularly enjoyed how food is recurring motif throughout the book. Whether it is Lila’s American step mother who shows her affection through food, to how Lila’s mother and grandmother compete with each other to server her favourite dishes, food remains the love language through which most people seem to express themselves. Whether it is haggling for fish at the market or guarding recipes, the book evokes memories in anyone who cares about food.

Conclusion

It is tempting to compare the book to the masterpiece of intergenerational trauma- Arundhati Roy’s God of Small Things. While both books deal with inherited trauma and of how young people attempt to cope with it, The Magnificent Ruins is told through the perspective of someone who has now escaped the family home, and who therefore is able to confront her family history through the distance of time and space.

Overall, this is a powerful debut from the author and one certainly looks forward to reading her next.

AN: I thank Hachette India for sending me a review copy of the book. The views are my own.

Do We Need So Many Statues?

 

When the world’s largest statue of Dr. BR Ambedkar was still under construction, I would be awed by the scale. Yet, like most other well-meaning savarnas, I would wonder if the money being spent on the statue could not have been better spent in setting up the infrastructure to deliver better education, meaningful livelihood opportunities and quality healthcare to the people who need it the most. Wouldn’t that create a more equitable world, I thought.

When I started reading Dalit authors, I came to realise that the statues of Dr. Ambedkar instil a sense of pride and confidence in people. They symbolise the aspiration to break free from the clutches of casteism, and to take their rightful place in the world.

A few weeks back, a public intellectual asked a rather provocative question- “There are more Ambedkar statues in India than Gandhi’s. Is that because he gave us a country which Gandhi could never have conceptualised.” This question sidesteps the fact that Dr. Ambedkar is directly linked to Dalit and Bahujan pride, and it is by erecting statues that the community asserts itself and it is also the easiest way for politicians to appease the community.

Ironically, if the nation had succeeded in removing the bane of caste, and there was genuine social, economic and political equity, then we might have fewer statues of Ambedkar. Till such a day arrives, we need to educate, agitate and organise. It will not be easy, because that would mean acknowledging our privileges and unlearning things we took for granted. But we must.

Review: Girls Who Said Nothing & Everything

 [Review of a book of essays by Meera Vijayann on growing up as a young woman from a small town in India]

‘Girls Who Said Nothing and Everything’ is a collection of eleven autobiographical essays on growing up as a young woman in India.

“In the Tamil Nadar community”, the author Meera Vijayann writes, “speaking the truth about your family is a great betrayal. You are raised to feel indebted to your parents.” The eldest of four daughters, the author was born in a small town in Tamil Nadu to parents who wanted “the best” for their children, but didn’t really know what “the best” really was. While fstill in school, the author maintained a journal as a way to process her feelings, and it was while revisiting these journals decades later that she thought about compiling them into the essays that made up this book. The author, however does not consider these essays to be betrayal, and instead sees them as “a refusal to continue the oppressive culture of silence that I was raised in.”

The book begins with an incident where the young Meera is inadvertently held responsible for a classroom accident she did not intend to cause. After bearing the punishment in silence for a few days, Meera confides in her mother, who takes it up with the school authorities. While her mother stood up for her, and displayed righteous anger at how she was wrongfully blamed, this was not what Meera wanted. In her words, “I didn’t want her to stand up for me but to say something sweet and motherly.” She is almost angry with herself for confiding in her mother. Meera’s relationship with her mother continues to follow the same pattern. Her mother, who was forced to sacrifice her dreams at the altar of marriage wanted a different life for her daughters. Yet, she wanted her daughters to fulfil their dreams within the constraints imposed by a patriarchal society.

The book follows a chronological sequence, but more than that each successive essay marks different constraints the author has to overcome before she can achieve the personal, social and financial freedom she craves. She deals with issues which were relevant three decades back, and unfortunately continue to be relevant even today. She talks about casteism, classism and nepotism- the many ways in which society conspires to break down the spirit of ambitious young people. She speaks a lot about financial independence, and of how parents fail to prepare their children for the outside world by excluding them from conversations involving money.

Her essays expose the hypocrisy of society which looks away when young girls are sexually abused by older men, but are quick blame women for “tempting” the men with whom they are in a consensual relationship. All the institutions which are supposed to protect women, the author soon realises, do so only if the women grant blind obedience. She speaks about the power of role models, and of how hearing Barkha Dutt say “Oh girls, you’ll do great” served as a talisman for her. As she says, “All week, I couldn’t stop thinking about those words. I wish my parents had said something that kind and simple.”

While the author bemoans the fact that her parents didn’t provide the emotional support she needed while growing up, she also grows to recognise the fact that they themselves were victims of generational trauma. It was eventually her parents who took a loan to send her to UK to study so she could have the life that was denied to them.

‘Girls Who Said Nothing & Everything’ documents the coming of age of a woman who has to challenge social expectations and create opportunities for herself in a land where “every living thing but a girl has freedom.” It is a testament to fact that generational trauma can be overcome, and healing is possible. It is also the story of female solidarity, and of how women can uplift other women.

Read this book if you are interested in reading a personal memoir which also serves as a social commentary on how family, community, educational opportunities and caste come together to stunt the growth of young women.

[AN: I received a review copy of the book through the Blogchatter Book Review Program. You can buy the book on Amazon or wherever books are sold. The views are my own.]

The Inspirational Story of Daktarin Jamini Sen

 [Book Review first published in YouthKiAwaaz]

“In 1912, when most women in British India were still denied formal medical education, an Indian woman entered the global medical establishment. Jamini Sen became the first woman Fellow of the Royal Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, and then gradually disappeared from India’s public memory.”

When I read these lines, I immediately knew that I wanted to know more about Daktarin Jamini Sen. Most of us know the names of the three pioneering women doctors from India- Anandibai Joshi (the first Indian woman to quality as a doctor), Rukhmabai Raut (the first Indian woman to practice Western medicine in India) and Kadambini Ganguly (the first woman to qualify as a doctor in India)- the names and stories of the women doctors who followed them are largely forgotten. Yet, each of them would have had to overcome immense obstacles in the course of getting qualified and then while actually practicing medicine. What made this particular story even more intriguing was the fact that Jamini Sen was not just the first Indian woman to become a Fellow of the RFPSG, but the first woman regardless of nationality!

Nothing, however, prepared me for the inspirational story of Daktarin Jamini Sen!

The story begins in a village in what is now Bangaldesh. A young mother of two daughters is left destitute after her father-in-law passed away. While her husband is still alive, the villagers want her to forget about him since he ‘left the faith’ after joining the Brahmo Samaj movement. The lady, however has a mind of her own, and follows her husband to the city after first laying down the condition that she will remain true to the religious faith she grew up with. Both the daughters were given an education, and the younger of the two qualified as a doctor.

Then, instead of practicing medicine from the safety of her home, Daktarin Jamini Sen relocated to Katmandu to take up the position of the physician to the royal family. She was more than just a medical doctor- she became a confidant to the members of the royal family, and she worked closely with the local administration to introduce public health measures. Many of these sanitation and cleanliness measures were incorporated as a part of religious ritual, and as far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter who took credit as long as health standards improved.

When she returned to India following political turmoil, she decided to go abroad to acquire further qualifications, after which she joined the Indian Women’s Medical Service and served in many remote outposts of British India. In many of these postings, she was responsible for setting up or modernising the local hospital, and she commanded much respect from the people she treated.

The book does not, however, only deal with Daktarin Jamini Sen’s professional triumphs. It goes into the effort she had to put into maintaining her “virtue”, of the discrimination she faced from both men and women, of the baseless gossip that followed her wherever she went, and of how the system tried to browbeat her. The book also describes her spiritual experiences, and tries to understand some of the choices she made. There is also a diversion into how the saree drape evolved and of the particular style adopted by Daktarin Jamini Sen.

The book is written by the great-grand niece of Jamini Sen, and draws upon oral family lore. However, it is also the product of meticulous research and the writer gives precise citations wherever possible.

I would recommend the book to anyone who is curious to hear the stories of the female pioneers who helped pave the way for greater gender parity. It would also be of interest to people who are interested in learning about the Brahmo community in Calcutta and about the politics within the Royal Family of Nepal.

I received a review copy from Penguin India, and this review reflects my unbiased opinion.

“The Wrong Way Home”- For Fans Of Nora Ephron And Liane Moriarty

 [I reviewed the book for YouthKiAwaaz]

Summary
On the first anniversary of her divorce, 40 year old Nayantara’s social media feed exploded with the news of her ex-husband’s marriage to a young influencer. The divorce had been hard on her- she’d walked away without an alimony, been shunned by mutual friends who chose to align themselves with her ex-husband, and found her PR business foundering because the divorce closed her off from certain circles. Her confidence which was at an all-time low was further dented when she found herself referred to as “his ex-wife is in PR”, instead of as “the glamorous head of a boutique PR firm” which is how she thought of herself. When she lost an important client because she was busy doomscrolling instead of attending an event, and was asked to vacate her apartment because the housing society decides to revoke the tenancy of unmarried women, she realised she had to turn things around.
She takes on some questionable clients, and allows herself to get emotionally involved with a suave and rich man- anything to convey to her ex-husband that she is over him! But will her conscience allow her to keep those clients, and should she ignore all the red flags her romantic interest sets off? More importantly, will she learn to stop wanting to impress her ex-husband, in the hope of making him regret leaving her?

The book is full of well etched characters.
There is also Vikram, a Silicon Valley techie who chose to return to home with his daughter to set up schools in inaccessible Himalayan villages. He is thoughtful and kind, and Nayantara’s mother adores him, but do the bright lights of Mumbai blind her to his obvious interest in her.
Rohit is the best friend every young (or not so young) woman can want. He understands her needs, knows exactly which wine to pair with every crying session, is kind and compassionate, yet, never shies away from telling her exactly what he believes. It is Rohit who makes her realise that she should stop caring about what her ex-husband thinks and start living for herself, thereby setting her off on the journey towards recovery.
Nayantara’s mother is a force of nature. An environmental activist, she was too busy saving the world to be a doting mother to her child, but it is her common sense and compassion which is the cushion that her adult daughter desperately craves.

But the real star of the book is Nayantara. Though she comes across as lacking confidence in herself, and is constantly evaluating herself through the eyes of her ex-husband, it is clear that she is brilliant in her profession. She is thrown into a desperate situation more than once and each time is able to avert a disaster because of her quick thinking, her contacts and her intuitive understanding of PR.

Told with wit and humour, this is a deeply feminist book
On the face of it, ‘The Wrong Way Home’ is a book about the swish set of Mumbai, but below the gloss, it is a gritty book on the reality of being a single woman in the city. The book is about how the city treats single women and the presumptions made about them. It is about how difficult it is to be a female divorcee- of how men treat you as prey and women as potential predators. The author talks about how hard it is for middle aged women to enter the dating pool, and of the compromises many women make to preserve their public personas.
As we accompany Nayantara on her journey towards healing, we perhaps anticipate the choices she will finally make- but what sets this book apart from many others is that these choices are not explicitly stated. This is a deeply feminist book, but one where the message is buried under humour, and an engaging storyline. If you like Liane Moriarty and Nora Ephron, you will love this book.

Author’s Note: I received a review copy from the publisher. The views are my own.