Book Review: Rumble in a Village

[Book review of ‘Rumble in a Village’ by Jean Drèze and Luc Leruth]

Jean Dreze is person I deeply admire, so when I saw his name on a work of fiction with an eye-catching cover, I had to pick it up. I am glad I did. Though the book is written by two academicians, and the themes are heavy, the book is an absolute delight to read.

Imagine a village in the middle of nowhere, with a railway tracks cutting past the landscape. A village demarcated along rigid caste lines. The people knowing their place, yet, striving to improve their lives with limited or no opportunities.

Into this village comes an NRI, accompanied with vague memories of a trip to the village when he was three, and the notes which his father intended to covert into a work of non-fiction, but didn't. With no knowledge of how caste works, he bumbles through, thinking he is making a difference, but actually being played along by virtually everyone.

The author(s) employ self deprecating humour to make a point about casteism, misogyny and corruption. The book is full of harsh truths, but put forward in a way that neither preaches nor accuses.

Palampur can be any village, anywhere. The cast of characters too.

The United Colours of Navratri

 The Navratri Colour Code united women in a tight Sisterhood. It is meant to be celebrated, not imposed.

Twelve years back when I had re-entered the formal workforce after a break, amidst lots of discussion and banter, the “colour code” for Navratri was written out and posted on the office noticeboard. Those were days when I was going through a monochromatic phase, so on the first day, I wore red earrings with my black shirt and indigo jeans. On the second day, feeling festive, I draped a blue stole over my white shirt and faded jeans. The next day when I had to go to office, the colour was ‘cyan’, and since I happened to have a dressy cyan and purple kurta, that’s what I wore. On the way to work, I noticed something strange- almost all the women in my railway carriage were in cyan. Thinking back, I realised that most of the women had been in red and blue the previous two days too, but since they were common festive colours I hadn’t noticed. But cyan? An entire city of women in cyan, when most people don’t even own a single piece of clothing in that colour. That was my first introduction to the famous “Navaratri colour code”.

When I asked, I was told that a different manifestation of the goddess was worshipped on each day, and the colour was dedicated to her. For the next couple of years, I worked out of a home office, so the Navratri colour code was something I was only vaguely aware of, but I did notice something strange. The order in which the Goddesses were worshipped remained the same, but the order of colours changed from year to year. Clearly, the colours were not associated with the Goddesses!

Then someone then told me that the colours were decided by the Nakshatrams, but even that didn’t explain why some colours remained constant year on year, but others changed. What was also not explained was why the order of colours was never the same. Finally, I realised that even people who have been participating in the Navratri Colour Code for years have no clue where the colours came from, so I took to google to seek answers.

The mystery was finally solved. There is no religious significance to the colours. The Maharashtra Times first introduced the Navratri colour code in order to engage with the female readers and boost their circulation figures. The Navratri colour code proved to be so popular, it spread across the state, and through saree pacts spread across the nation and even abroad. Navratri Check out the popularity of Instagram or Facebook and you see how people plan their wardrobe well in advance so they can be a part of the global “Navratri colours” hashtags.

But what are these colours? Do they have any significance?

They do. The days of the week are named after the Sun, the Moon and five planets, each of which is associated with a particular colour. These are the colours that form the base of the Navratri Colour Code.

Once you know this, cracking the colour code become easy. In fact, there are many women who follow the colour code even otherwise. My grandmother, for instance, always wore red on Tuesday and black or blue on Saturday. It was something she did as a matter of course.

But hang on, what about pink and purple. Cyan, peacock green and sky blue. Where did they come from?

Good question, simple answer.

Once the first seven colours are allocated, the other two slots are determined by the person who finalises the code every year. Maybe she has a purple saree she wants to drape?

Why then is it so popular?

The Navratri colour code is popular because it is fun. Participating in the trend is a way to assert your individuality while submerging in a collective. It symbolisers Sisterhood. Whether you are the CEO or the lady cleaning her room, you were in the same colour. I have had colleagues remove their black burqas in office to reveal Navratri colours- it was a social celebration, not a religious one.

But now, the colour code is being forcibly implemented. The Senior Management of a PSU bank not only made it mandatory that all employees and vendor partners conform to the Navratri colour code, they threatened punitive action against those that did not. The circular even specified that the colour of the day should be the base colour of the outfit to be considered. While any organization is within its rights to specify and implement a dress codes, they cannot impose a custom that is religious in nature. Thankfully, it was withdrawn after public outcry, but it is a sign of a country that is moving far away from it’s secular tradition.

What is more ironicay is that the colour code which is being implemented by threatening punitive action against who do not confirm is of questionable significance. India is a pluralistic country. We have a wide diversity of customs and traditions. To impose homogeneity is to go against the ethos of the country. And that is extremely disturbing.

As for me, I did dress according to the colour code this Navratri as I have for many previous Navratris. But I did it my way. Once the seven days were completed, I circled back with yellow and green which are the ‘official’ colours of the day. My grandmother would certainly approve.

Book Review: Lahore (The Partition Trilogy #1)

It is hard to review a book that you have been waiting two years for. A book you had high expectations from both because of the subject matter and the author. A book you pre-ordered because you wanted to grab it as soon as you could. And a book which lived up to expectations, yet left you without words.

There have been many books written about the Partition. There are books that describe the high level political negotiations between the people who made history. And there are books written about the people who bore the brunt of Partition. Manreet Sodhi Someshwar’s ‘Lahore (The Partition Trilogy, #1)’ does both.

In Delhi, Mountbatten, Patel and Nehru lay down their non-negotiables and engage in a game of give and take around it. In Lahore, till the very end, the coolie, Belli Ram, who was brought up by his friend Mehmood’s family refuses to accept Partition till be actually “sees” the line separating India and Pakistan.

In Lahore, the ‘mad woman’, Billo, is thrown out of her home when she predicts a rain of blood, and takes up residence on the branches of a tree. In Delhi, Edwina Mountbatten shivers when she sees the unseasonal blooming of the Laburnums because when death is imminent, trees bloom and set fruit in a last ditch attempt to secure progeny.

The stories of the people and events that make up history, alternate with those of the people who have to bear the consequences of those decisions. Many of those stories end at a climatic point, where you are forced to pause and process what you witnessed before you can move on.

And, of course, at the end, she had both threads meet, however briefly. A reminder that Partition, eventually, was about people. People who survived. People who didn't. Dreams that were crushed. Pieces that were picked up.

This book is particularly significant because it puts many events in their proper context. The British would have left behind two partitioned nations and 565 princely states. Today, people try to assign the blame for Partition on certain leaders, choosing to forget that it was they who stopped the Balkanisation.

You will love ‘Lahore (The Partition Trilogy, #1)’ if you are interested either in the history of the subcontinent or in reading stories rich in human emotions. Take a bow, Manreet, for yet another masterly book.