If There is a God : Short Stories

 

If There is a God is a collection of ten stories by Imayam where the sharp portrayal of reality makes one wonders if this is a work of fiction. Commonplace scenarios, emotions and challenges flood the pages making every story dazzle with relatability.

Women form the backbone of these stories. They clearly understand the driving forces of society and are resilient. Some are highly pragmatic and some extremely sentimental but they all fight their circumstances valiantly irrespective of whether they win or succumb. It's noteworthy that Imayam chooses names for his women characters with care. When most women stay away from graveyards in fear of being possessed by evil spirits, 'No Fear in the Burial Ground' portrays a woman who digs graves without fear for the rich and poor, for the revered and orphaned ones. Imayam names her 'Sita', one who welcomes the dead onto the lap of 'Bhoomadevi', her mother. Likewise, 'Kannagi' rages against injustice in the titular story.  

The character Selvakumar from the story ‘Santha’ mutters in frustration ‘Females are the same everywhere’ and Imayam leaves no stone unturned to point out that their predicament and plight is also the same everywhere. If the opening story (Over in a Moment) playfully introspects how a couple’s sexual intimacy changes over years after marriage, the longest story (The Dubai Man’s Wife) on a married woman’s infidelity raises the question ‘life or honour, which is more important’ vociferously.

Men, too share their woes here - a peon yearns for little self respect at his workplace in ‘Saar’ and an old man laments the loss of his birthplace, his ancestral home in ‘The Maniyakarar House’. 

Caste is an important marker in these stories with focus not only on top-down oppression but on how power & money changes equations even within the same rung. Contemporary and important issues like how COVID-19 killed not only humans but humanity, the ubiquitous ‘cash for votes’ during elections and child sexual abuse appear in stories here.

The translation by Prabha Sridevan that offers a glitch-free reading experience was intimate enough to let me map in my head the probable lines in original, in rural Tamil argot.

“If there was no stomach and no hunger, man would not need to suffer any indignity”.

“Are courts and the police meant only for those who have money?”

Imayam’s stories, layered with crucial questions/observations, emphasize the need for moral integrity and empathy; two qualities that humans conveniently lack, the dearth of which often makes him utter ‘If there is a God’.

A ‘true to life’ collection of stories, a fine place to start reading the author. 

Additional Titbits:

Imayam (pen name of V Annamalai), a school teacher and writer, received the Sahitya Akademi award in the year 2020 for his work Sellada Panam. He rejects labels like feminist writer, Dalit writer and vehemently asserts that his works be known and judged for their literary merit.

During the book launch, the translator Prabha Sridevan explains how translation into English is never an easy task and leaves gaps in conveying emotions taking a simple instance - vandhaar and vandhaan, the two Tamil words translate into ‘he came’ in English but the former clearly indicates respect and the latter lacks it. She has also translated R Chudamani’s Echoes of Veena and other stories and Meeran’s Stories, both published by Ratna Books.

The beautiful cover design is done by Anshul Milan.

The Inconceivable Idea of the Sun

 

“I don’t take genre labels seriously. We must not let a division of labor become a division of laborers. This goes for writers as well as readers. Personally, I read the way a goat eats; that is, anything and everything. I hope you do too”, these lines from the author’s bio encouraged me to pick his collection - The Inconceivable Idea of the Sun, my first ‘proper’ attempt at reading spec-fic.

The book has a buoyant start with an offbeat table of contents and introduction. The strength of the collection lies in how the author picks very ‘real’, commonplace scenarios like a mother’s separation anxiety on her child’s first day at school (in ‘Archipelago’), a father’s inability to adjust with his grown-up daughter in her home in a new land (in ‘Into the Night’), a nervous young lady trying to settle down in her boyfriend’s orthodox household (in ‘God’s Own Country’), a man working hard to not feel bitter with his ex-wife’s husband (in ‘Robots of Eden’) and leaps into ‘surrealism’. 

The titular story where too many books in shelves get overwhelming for a bibliophilic couple and ‘The Mind-Body Problem where a young man leads a life of dual identities are other favorites.

Three (of the total 15) entries here felt more like essays than stories. ‘How not to tell Ramayana’ is a clinical analysis of the question - what makes Ramayana so attractive for retelling? ‘Aqua Biographica’ that describes the arduous journey of every writer/storyteller provides a befitting end.

What happens when Lord Shiva is bored of being the 'destroyer' ? A pair of talking parrots atop a silk cotton tree change the tales that an old, chaste Brahmin narrates, he switches from highly austere tales of eight Puranas and Ramayana to the erotica from Sringarasataka and Ujjavala Nilamani, but how? 

Under the cover of lively prose, the author ambushes us readers with some thought-provoking questions - Can over dependence on technology make us ‘digital paraplegics’? Are traditional rites and rituals of any use? Will people acquire ‘textually transmitted diseases’ in future? 

As a novice to the genre, reading these MIND-BENDING stories was no cake-walk, I had to develop the 'lusory attitude' that the author claims is essential for a spec-fic enthusiast. The ‘Contexts’ section in the end helped me understand stories that felt fuzzy initially. With a drizzle of philosophy, a dip into the paranormal and a bite of Hindu epics offered, this is quite an eclectic mix!

Battlefield

 

This book reminded me of George Orwell’s Notes on Nationalism. Orwell’s strands of thoughts on colonialism, nationalism and anti-semitism are woven into this slim work of fiction - Battlefield by Vishram Bedekar, originally published as Ranaangan in the year 1939, translated from Marathi by Jerry Pinto.

“If we’re thinking of Nationalism as revenge, if this becomes rooted in our history as a way of thinking, what becomes of man’s evolution? I shudder to think”.

“Perhaps the boundaries of narrow patriotism need to be broken all over the world.”

“The Nazi philosophy seemed to see the nation as an avenging angel, flaming sword in hand, righting wrongs that might be real or imagined”.

"My mother was born in Poland. I was born in Berlin. My children, should I have any, will be born in Shanghai. When your grandmother is Polish and your mother is German, and you are Chinese for whom will you fight?"

Europe is on the brink of WWII. Chakradhar Vidhwans feels it is wise to leave London and return home to Mumbai, India. On the ship back home, he meets Herta, a Jewish young woman forced to flee her home in Germany and seek exile in Shanghai. Many like Herta, heavily persecuted by Germany, are also headed to Shanghai, unsure of their future.

Chakradhar, who’s nursing a heartbreak, vows to make merry on the ship for two weeks before disembarking at Mumbai. Herta who has lost her job, home, love of her life, everything for being a Jew, is intent on clinging onto the smallest sliver of hope. She cares a hoot for the morals of the world that has shut her out. A heady mix of romance & desire brews between the two leading to a passionate, short-lived, plangent with melancholy affair.

“When you need a drink, you go and get one and you are rejuvenated. Which hotel you drink in does not matter.” - Chakradhar’s thoughts on desire for women’s company (there are more such lines) may feel misogynistic and irksome. But I pushed his notions and the romance between him and Herta to the background for Herta wouldn’t have been on the ship and would’ve led a quotidian life in Germany if the Nazis didn’t drive her out. The circumstances that brought them together were more important than their state of togetherness itself, for me. The little titbits of history on 'comfort women' from England ushered to service the French soldiers and a very rich arms dealer called Basil Zaharaoff (1848-1936), Shanghai being the home for Jews who fled Germany before WWII grabbed my attention more than the melodramatic love story itself. 

The ship, a tunnel of light and dark, is a microcosm of the world we lived/live in where human beings estrange and exploit those different from themselves (based on race, color, gender and religion) with an inexplicable madness. And for highlighting this, Battlefield, a classic stays extremely relevant.

Alka and other Stories

 

Goutam Das’s Alka and other stories packs fifteen short stories, translated from Bengali by Ratna Jha.

Most stories here are set within the family fold and delve deeply into relationships between family members. There are stories (‘Awake’, ‘Duty-Bound’, ‘Courtesy of Rain’, ‘A Change of Mind’) where the family is a tightly knit unit, its members earnestly care for each other. And there are stories (‘A Tale from Anandganj’, ‘Alka’, ‘The Servant’, ‘Second Birth’) where complete strangers shower love and care just like one’s own kith and kin.

While most stories brim with positivity and have neat closures on a hopeful note, two stories, quite like a kink in the graph - ‘Cuckoos’ and ‘The Cremation Ground’ are immensely moving and sad, these are my favorites too. 

The story ‘Wish’ about a bank employee who opts for voluntary retirement to dedicate more time to his interests - reading & writing despite everyone around dissuading him from doing so closely mirrors the author’s life.

The characters in these stories are mostly uncomplicated beings, quick to forgiving human error. Though these stories are mostly restricted to the domestic sphere, the author adds titbits of Bengali socio-cultural scape, the widely prevalent economic divide and political rivalry in hinterland claiming innocent lives in the background. 

There’s abundant love for Rabindra Sangeet as the first verse written by Tagore (‘Jol Poday Pata noday’ which translates to ‘water falls and the leaves move’) & many others poems (Tumi Sandhyar Meghamala, Amar Praner Poray Cholay) feature regularly. There is even a mention of the famed love story between Chandidas and Rami. 

Grandparents here enjoy telling stories from Thakurmar Jhuli to their grandchildren. The author also acquaints us with the tradition of Baul (folk) songs too in his story ‘Human Gems’. Sounds of the seaside, boatman’s oars cracking up the river, Chandi paath during Durga Puja and Baul songs from Jaidev mela adorn the story ‘The Poetry of Sound’. The mention of rain, dark clouds, fragrant swarna champa flowers, magpie robins, food like khichudi, hilsa fry, luchis, nolen gur sandesh are a feast to the senses. The translation by Ratna Jha offers a comfortable reading experience. 

In the story 'The Servant', a loyal servant unlocks his master's mind to some essential questions on life; likewise the simple stories here collectively move 'something' in us, help us slow down and appreciate the little beautiful things around us. 

Perfect for weekend or ‘de-stress’ reading, in genteel and compassionate storytelling, this book’s a nice bunch of stories. 

A History of Objects

 

A History of Objects by Carlo Pizzati is a collection of 23 short stories (more precisely 22, the first story ‘The Hard Drive’ is a prelude to the book) with each story named after a certain object. From the mundane sweater, a pair of shoes or slippers, a bench, an umbrella to the currently obsolete VHS tape, the recently ubiquitous mask and hand sanitizer, there are many objects that find a place here. In some stories, these objects are clearly the focal point, in some these are catalysts that precipitate life-changing events and in others they only make a guest appearance.

Apart from taking us places - Italy, Germany, the USA, India & Philippines in his stories, the author gives us an array of diverse characters and a gamut of emotions to explore. His writing is lucid, carefree & marked with ‘dry’ humor and ‘out of the box’ imagination. One cannot predict when the object in the title will appear in the story or how it will alter its course. For instance, everything in the stories ‘The Teddy Bear’, ‘The Candy Box’ is far from ‘mushy cute’ or innocent, there’s nothing scandalous in ‘The VHS tape’ and nothing related to rain/greenery in ‘The Umbrella’. These stories, mostly open-ended, are differently structured too - story within a story as in ‘The Coconut Scraper’, starting from the end and moving backwards in ‘The Slippers’, a series of interconnected vignettes in ‘The Teddy Bear’. 

It is no secret that objects are reserves of stories & memories, they have a life of their own. But not all objects are embodiments of nostalgia - with cached ‘sweet’ memories waiting to tumble out, the author points out. Here a wind-up cockroach toy and a mantlepiece fish destroy relationships, a portrait warns a man of his future, a man changing his baby’s diapers vows to turn vegetarian. Characters in these stories largely suffer from self-doubt, depression, failed relationships and heartbreak. There is an undercurrent of violence and dysfunctionality. A young man who announces he's gay to his family and is looking for acceptance, a woman who cannot open herself to the love of mortals on Earth openly embracing the skies, men and women authors debating about the idea of equality as preached by feminism - their stories lie curled up within the objects that appear in these stories. 

Reality in fiction gets an expression as the author incorporates Monica Ghurde murder case & MV Greenpeace voyage in his stories and even lends an autobiographical ‘feel’ to some parts.

A quirky potpourri of stories (better savored slowly) where objects are as potent as characters in flesh and blood.