Maria, Just Maria

 

“It's not a question of belief, Appacha. It's a question of belonging. It's about being with people we know, in a place we are familiar with. A place where we belong because of who we are, no matter what we do in our lives”. For Maria who thinks real life is boring and madness might add a bit of interest to it, does such a place exist in real life or is it only in dreams?

Maria, Just Maria by Sandhya Mary, translated from Malayalam by Jayasree Kalathil begins at a psychiatric hospital where Maria is being treated. From a sensitive, precocious & innocent child to an adult in 30s, struggling to live, Maria's journey unfolds in a non-linear fashion for the scatterbrain she is.

The youngest of four children, Maria is cast aside as an avoidable extra. She grows up at Kottarathil Veedu, her ancestral house. Geevarghese, her maternal grandfather (Appachan) who equals her in craziness is her best buddy. 

“What is the point in living without knowing the history of your own family and your ancestors?” says Appachan and we are regaled with stories of a plethora of colorful characters who sprawl like a banyan. Of ancestors, uncles and aunts, of an ancestor who was an outstanding magician, of Appachan's grandmother who aced prophesying, of Appachan's father whose temptation of finding a place in heaven superseded all other temptations, Appachan's own life story about his friends, his wife, his children and even of a saint who inspired his name, the stories here are aplenty. Chandi, the dog and Ammini, the parrot add an interesting anthropomorphic element.

Largely from Maria and her Appachan’s POV, through foibles of characters here, the author holds a mirror to our world that cannot think beyond binaries - haves & have nots, First world & Third world, normal-abnormal; a digital world that runs only on 0s & 1s, one that kneads, stretches and snips people to fit them into readymade moulds. Even though this sounds heavy, the author writes in an unshowy, funny manner balancing tragedy and comedy. If Maria's conversations with Karthav (Christ) are hilarious, her situation when she eventually moves in with her parents & siblings tears our heart asunder. The vast array of characters may leave us readers complaining, but the author makes sure that she enables our understanding of Maria, our becoming more tolerant to those who are widely different from us.

In a discussion between the author and the translator shared in the insights section at the end of the novel, the translator quotes Edith Grossman - “A translation can be faithful to tone and intention, to meaning. It can rarely be faithful to words or syntax, for these are peculiar to specific languages and are not transferable.” Jayasree Kalathil’s translation does this for there’s a little something that shifts in us at the end of the novel. Maria’s declension, her simple options for a happily ever after which feel hard to attain in this world moves us to tears. An activist-researcher in the field of mental health and human rights, author of ‘The Sackcloth Man’, there’s no one more fitting than Jayasree Kalathil who can translate this work. Fighting standard definitions of who’s a success and who’s a wastrel, or even wondering who discovered time is a thing to be used, this pretty unique novel instills in us, if not empathy, a restraint in terming someone struggling to live as mad. The cover design by Aashim Raj and the cover illustration by Nupur Panemangalore do complete justice to the story. 

Can't this world be a little more inclusive? This is the question we are left with at the end of this moving novel, the story of Maria who misplaced a few years of her life, or should we just say, the story of Maria, Just Maria.