An Isolated Incident by Soniah Kamal - A Review

When you see Khaled Hosseini endorse a book right on its cover, the fan in your stops thinking and picks up the book with high hopes and expectations. An Isolated Incident by Soniah Kamal, fell prey to this burden of expectations. One could call it a wrong way to approach a book, or one could hold the endorsement fortunate for it tinges the critical eye with rainbow colours. This novel written by a Pakistan born American author gave me both highs - that of a confused critic eager to verbalise the disenchantment, and that of a fascinated reader, comfortably giving herself over to the deft penmanship of the author. Let us get along to exploring both these aspects of the novel now, shall we?

Uprooting
The narrative begins in Kashmir, which is a land ridden with tensions, but happiness manages to flow in households obsessed with living the daily chores and fulfilling customs and rituals. Zari is the protagonist - a vivacious girl, in a loving family, with a marriage to excitedly prepare and wait for. Conflict strikes at the very beginning when her entire world is ripped apart, and she is uprooted from her native land to be taken to the more liberal and progressive air of the States to heal in the company of her distant relatives. Classic and expected interjection in the plot by an author whom postcolonial theorists would label with hyphenated identity. Diaspora as a literary strain is all too evident here - the distance from culture is what makes the yearning for and awareness of culture prominent - this being further complicated by a tragic heroine mourning the loss of her loved ones and piecing together her identity from a fragmented psyche and erased past.

Memory and History
Writings about lands with complicated conflicts at the very birth of them - a classic example of which is Kashmir - build upon the strains of memory and history to help characters determine answers to the 'Who am I' question. In An Isolated Incident, while Zari deals with the burden of memory and history, her hero, Billy, romanticises both to arrive at a proud and rebellious notion of his identity. His parents deliberately conceal details of his family history which lends him the frustrated feeling of anchorlessness. From conversations of childhood spent in Kashmir that he remembers, he is convinced that he bloodline is made up of great ancestors who fought for the liberation of his homeland. It is in the past that he discerns a destiny and path for future actions. Part of his responsibility towards Kashmir is fulfilled by taking care of Zari, and the other, unfulfilled, burning part is what leads him to the fields of conflict which jeopardise his existence along with that of the family.

Cultural Positioning
I forced a Kashmiri friend to read this novel along with me, for the pleasure of discussion and association. We all like seeing our childhood reminiscences inked as someone else's recollections - and my friend was no different. The novel liberally uses Kashmiri colloquial terms, making conversations rather personal and warm. Cultural identifiers in terms of Kashmiri food, customs, games, greetings are what keep the novel bound together as a unified narrative even as it traverses through vastly different geographic spaces. The keenness to affiliate to your common roots, to draw the source of your existence from there is evident in both the central characters, even as other characters snap or mutilate their past for they see it threatening their future. The political stances taken by the author (through the voice of her characters) is not what Indian audience would be too happy about - but then, if fiction is debated upon within the realm of fiction, then the stances, however jarring, come justified in the fabric of the story.

Characters and Identity

I have a personal proclivity towards novels in which I see characters grow in reaction to the situations around them. What I will laud the author for in her extremely skilled hold over her characters, each of whom had more to it than a mere flat face. The story functions in a non-linear format, and the greater depths of narratives you delve into, a newer shade about the characters are revealed. This applies to the protagonists, as well as all the supporting cast. Also, no character in the story could be called a mere accessory - they all come with a defined purpose, they help further the narrative and each of them make your reflect uniquely in the human condition, the tragedy of never having control over how your life pans out in front of you. I would personally like to congratulate the author for her absolute finesse on creating a pool of characters with unique human identities converging to a common cultural identity.

Narrative and Verdict
Its a good novel. Not exceptional, but an extremely good novel - almost like a rare piece of literary merit that lingers in your head till long after. Soniah Kamal has displayed exemplary sensitivity, sensibility and intelligence while assembling together this beautiful and thought provoking novel on the Kashmir question. In doing so, she has lent a balance to the personal and the political. Her language is leagues above the ordinary, somewhat satiating a literary appetite. The only problem I had with the book was the confusion and fragmentation which surface as the plot jumps between people, perspectives and places. Basically, there were times when the novel refused to hold me together, even thought I was willing to lie submerged in it.  The plot took long to reveal itself to me. For the longest time, I felt that this was Zari's story, but as I put the novel away, I find power in the character and conflict which Billy essays. If that was intended or not, I would not know.

However, no novel has forced me to write a review with such excitement! Since I must stop writing now in order to attend to other chores, let me just give the verdict as 3.5 stars on 5 and a highly recommended label alongside. When you manage to read this one, as you absolutely should, can we get along for a cup of tea and dwell a little on the politics and people of Kashmir, please?

Book Details - 
Author - Soniah Kamal
Genre - Fiction
Publisher - Fingerprint
Published - 2014
Price - Rs. 295
Pages - 379
Source - Review Copy

Chutzpah in Tragedy

And then, while you were lying low, engulfed with the inertia of penlessness, comes a piece of artistic grandeur which cajoles you into putting words together and shooting them out in the world. I witnessed today the sublimity of darkness, and the pure art that emanates from there. Never have I been impacted with the dark as I was today. Thrill hid inside each minute which unfolded to reveal a darker shade of human emotions, and all this, before I had arrived at a complete understanding of the plotline.

I have not read Hamlet, and I knew little about it before watching Haider. Dragging my reluctant body for the first day, first show of the film seemed like a torture - also because I am not one of those who loads her head with tragic tales shown in screechingly over-blown proportions on the screen. And Haider was supposed to be that. It was an adaptation of the darkest and the most tragic of Shakespearean dramas, promising depressiveness; but it turned out to be a perfectly chiselled product of extremely high class cinematic thought, a courageous combination of beauty and annihilation.

The plotline of Hamlet is famous - let us fit some Kashmiri names into it. Haider returns to his Kashmiri homeland to avenge the death of his father, Dr. Hilal Meer. Upon his return, he finds his widowed mother, Ghazala sharing some banter with his father brother, Khurram Meer. Khurram, who also harbours political ambitions is also Hilal's murderer - as is revealed to Haider by Roohdaar - a ghost, or spirit identity in the story. The ghost urges Haider to avenge his father's murder, and thereafter events unfold to grow towards the greatest tragic end that Bollywood has ever seen.

The characterisations are pitch-perfect, and I was bowled over by performances by Tabu and Shahid. For me, probably, they served as the lead pair, with clear sexual tension marking their relationship. Tabu played Haider's mother, and the existence of Oedipal undertones was pointed out to me by Neha - a core thread of the story which became all too apparent by the end. Shahid has outdone himself, especially in his portrayal of obsessive behaviour bordering on delusion and dementia. There is a scene in which Shahid delivers a mono-act speech on a Chowk  - and I am still in disbelief about the superlative theatre skills he put on display. This man managed to match up to Tabu in each scene - no mean feet there!

How Vishal Bhardwaj wove the geographical and cultural topography of Kashmir into the literary stream of a Victorian play is something I am still at odds to understand. Needlessly said, it appears, as thought the central narrative of the tragedy was crafted for a Kashmiri setting exclusively. The songs, background, depiction, attires, art, characters - all give you a very authentic taste of the land, which encases not just natural beauty, but a very distinctive culture of its own. Culture, and devastation - Vishal Bhardwaj is the genius who probably knows how to find beautiful ways of depicting the same. The whole movie, itself, could be called devastatingly beautiful. When you hear the word 'Chutzpah' being used to explain AFSPA, you know you are being exposed to subtle, dark humour.

There is so much from the film which refuses to leave my mind! The white attire of Irrfan Khan, alluding to his ghost-like interjection in the plot. The dilemmas faces by each character, and how tragic fate overtakes their minds. The many shades of Tabu's countenance - her struggle to be the woman who could control situations, but fails upon trying too hard. The hauntingly beautiful music! The theatrical performance put together by Shahid to recreate the tail of his father's death in the song Bismil.

And, to top it all, there was Faiz's poetry. So much about the story, the human condition, and the human conflict can be understood by listening to and absorbing Gulon Mein Rang Bhare and Hum Dekhenge. If Shakespeare lived in Kashmir, probably he would not have been able to put together this intense, dark melody, painfully beautiful to the eyes and soul. I have never reviewed a movie earlier, but if I were to review this one, 5 on 5 stars for me, and standing ovation to go with it.

PS - If you have not, listen to 'Aaj Ke Naam' sung by Rakha Bhardwaj on priority. Like, now. 

Winds of Hastinapur - A Review

This year brought with itself the love of Mahabharata. I had always been fascinated by the epic and its various stories, eloquently presented through different classical texts in Sanskrit and other Indian languages. It is specifically the numerous stories prior to the war which I adore delving deep into, but the curious little fact is - out of the 18 Parvas in Mahabharata, the story from the beginning of Kuru race till the point Pandavas and Kauravas come to being enemies is told in just the first Parva.

Now, for a story monger like me, that is too less! Each little story, in fact, feels like an independent little book - and then, authors like Sharath Komarraju come along to present just the literary treat I had been yearning for.

Winds of Hastinapur came my way earlier this year - an interesting blue coloured novel, which I had no clue what to expect from. The title assured me that the story in some way is plotted around Mahabharata - but how, I could not be sure. The epic has a scope which runs over generations. Was this book going to be another of those brief retellings, I wondered. Thankfully, it was not just a recapitulation of the events of the Mahabharata, but a well thought out, well researched and well written narrative, focussed within a particular time frame.

Very briefly put, Winds of Hastinapur is the story of the Ganga and Satyavati, the two strong ladies who appear the very beginning of Mahabharata - women who were responsible for thoughts and actions influencing the later generations of Kuru dynasty in a profound manner. There are two distinct narratives to the book, one themed around Ganga - the River Maiden/Lady, and the other around Satyavati (also called Matsyagandha and Kali) - the Fisher Girl.

The story begins in the Meru Hills, where lived the divine beings, drinking divine fluids to enhance their youth and longevity. Ganga has to descend on the Earth as a result of an unfortunate curse. She then meets King Shantanu and gives birth to the longest living character in the Mahabharata - Devavrata, better known as Bhishma. Interestingly, Bhishma himself is born on Earth as the result of a curse incurred by stealing of a cow - he was a Vasu during his life on Mount Meru (taken to be equivalent of Swarga, the dwelling of elemental deities and other celestial beings).

The other part of the book is the story of Satyavati, born of a fish as 'Kali' and ever surrounded by a foul fish smell. It was upon being seduced by Rishi Parashara that she found an antidote to her stink, and hence was able to attract King Shantanu of Hastinapur towards herself. Devavrata takes the vow of celibacy due to the condition Satyavati placed upon her marriage with Shantanu, thus earning the sobriquet of Bhishma (the one with a terrible vow). Rest of the story, well, many of us would know that.

The wonderful thing about this book is its female-centric narrative. Is it a feminist retelling of the tale? I could certainly see it in that prism. Women are portrayed in this book as rather strong characters, with a mind of their own. While Ganga, I saw, as a woman bound in complex set of obligations, Satyavati comes across as a woman with an agenda, ever-ready to manipulate and dictate to allow smooth fruition of her desires. In the popular renditions of the epic, seldom is such limelight granted to female characters except for Draupadi - hailed and condemned simultaneously, sympathised and castigated for the role she played in supposedly causing the DharmaYuddha at Kurukshetra. For etching out such fine female characters, conscious of and playing with their sexuality as well, full marks to the author! The empowered portrayal of the characters also perhaps insinuates towards the author's conviction of the elevated stature of women in the social codes of ancient times.

Compared to these two leading ladies, the other characters lack shape and lustre. A possible exception to this is Devavrata, but he too is not depicted as the invincible, strong, valorous warrior as seen popularly (remeber Mukesh Khanna from B. R. Chopra's television adaptation?), but rather emasculated.  Brilliant, skillful, but emasculated. His description, in fact, left me a little uncomfortable, for Sharath's sketching of the character was in sharp contrast to how I imagined him.

The book reads like a fantasy sometimes, and like a history at others. If you are not a know-it-all of Mahabharata, Winds of Hastinapur can give you many new perspectives to dwell upon. The language is not archaic, hence easy to follow, and the flow of the book is maintained throughout.

I only hope this is the first in a long list of books that Sharath writes on the Mahabharata, revealing story after story, from points of view of lesser understood and explored characters.

Its a 3.5 stars on 5 book for me. A writing job well done!

Book Details -

Author - Sharath Komarraju

Publisher - Harper Collins

Source - Review Copy provided by the author (Sorry for the delay in writing Sharath!)

Genre - Mythological Fiction

Price - Rs. 299

Pages - 320

Water Memory - Guest Post by Anurag Vats

Do You see those drops falling?

Each drop of water that falls on Your skin has tales to tell.

Each swig of the drink You take; taste, or no taste, has moments.

Water retains memories. 

  

Hence each time You see rain falling,

Each time You share a drink,

Each time You drink water, sharing that glass,

You share a part of the memory.

You wouldn't realise. 

But it takes a place in Your head.

Memories of Centuries.

Memories of moments.

Memories of the moments past.

Memories of present.

It is absorbing a part of You as we breathe. 

It’s good that You live here, and we've shared a drink. 

Perhaps that's the reason, a part of You lives in me,

And You wouldn’t realise, a part of mine in Yours. 

It is neutral, it is transparent.

Because it is so opaque, with memories that You won’t be able to see.

They say that a kiss can transfer a bit of You in the other.

Who knows why?

Water memories, watermarks and water colours.

What are waters?

They are eternal. I swear.

Imagine, water goes up and precipitates, for millennia.

Ancient water.

Water sipped an unison, they speak.

Water fallen on the paper. 

Water kissed from the cheeks.

Water absorbed from the other's body.

Watery eyes.

Ever imagined saline water that runs in tears and in oceans.

We are almost water.

So is most of the Earth.

Uncountable memories.

Countable instances.

Memories make Us, most of Us.

Memories lead to love, to procreation and it doesn't end there.

Memories conjure water too and water conjures memories.

Drop by drop.

They fall like drops of You and i.

Drops of us. 

Dropped through Us.

On Us. 

In Us.

Us.

About The Poet

Anurag Vats is among the many young, promising poets I met over the past year, who leaves the listeners of his poetry exhilarated and incredulous with his deft, bordering on fantastical use of language. Anurag, besides creative expression, has the blessing of a mesmerising baritone, and even if my description of his poetic brilliance is going a bit over the top, it is still all justified, you can trust me! The above poem, if just one example, and you can find more, here - http://anurag-vats.blogspot.in/

Image Credits (For the dewy-leafy picture) - Vivek Nambiar (another awesome friend I made over the many gatherings I attend and organize. 

A Little Something On Me

There is a tag going on around at Instagram, where people are asked to state 20 random facts about themselves. I remember a time when such tags were routine in the world of blogs. However, I feel, with the coming up on multiple social networking fora, where the content you write is instantly and easily share-able and tag-able, blogs have sort of gotten relegated to a secondary expression position - laborious, slightly inconvenient.

Anyway, so I wanted to do the same tag here; for old time's sake. Also, for archiving purposes. Here we go.

1. I am in love with the world of written words - I want to own it, play in it, learn with it, carve it, destroy it, reconstruct it and flow with it. 
   
2. Ammi - Letters To A Democratic Mother by Saeed Akhtar Mirza is the book which has influenced me most in life. Following it at a close second spot is a book called The Assassin's Song by M. G. Vassanji. 

   

   Saeed Akhtar Mirza

3. Faiz Ahmed Faiz is the poet who tugs at the cords of my heart most strongly, though I will admit to not being able to comprehend his language completely. 
   
4. I have always been a people's person, but that manner of existence has begun disenchanting me lately. 
5. I am crazily in love with Silver Jewellery - buy me some and be assured I will instantly fall in love with you. I am also slowly opening up to the idea of gold and bling. Dang is my favourite place to pick up gold-funky-accessories from. 
   
6. I discovered Mythology, specifically Mahabharata as a huge ocean with depth as yet waiting discovery, earlier this year. I hence started a club called Maha Varta with a bunch of mythology enthusiasts which has opened my eyes to much which would have otherwise been left elusive. 
   
7. I desire to be married to books and nature, with a cottage all to myself, high up in the hills. 
8. I have been blessed with a friend who remains with me to grant me unconditional love and support even when I am a witch. Such friends, companions, lovers are rare. They are a blessing most of us fail to understand. 
9. This blog has been dearer to me than most journals I have written in moments of intimacy with myself. Each time I see the ticker at the right hand side move, I do a mental jig. 
10. My day job is that of a Content Strategist; but then, so are my night jobs, one  of which is that of the Poetry Editor at a forum called Positivally Cynical (intentionally spelt that way). Here, my boss is someone way younger than me, but this fine young man hides within him an ambitious entrepreneur I love seeing come of age.
    
11. I love experimenting with new flavours of tea. You want to take me out for a date? Sunset and tea, or monsoon and tea work wonders!
    
12. I was a coffee addict at one time. The incident which changed that was when I collapsed due to drinking 12 cups of coffee in a span of 8 hours. Don't ever try that at home!
    
13. I am in love with my voice.
14. If I were to venture out this moment for a holiday, I would pick between - Udaipur, Jaipur and Sattal. 
15. I go to the fanciest of restaurants to savour the fanciest of dishes from the most exotic corners of the world, but my favourite hangout remains Janpath McDonalds', with their breakfast menu served to me on rain-fed or foggy mornings.
    
16. I want to keep exploring arts - all forms of it - throughout life. Right now, playback is the weird ambition I have been day-dreaming after. 
17. I think faith is a tough concept to hang onto and that we all need our Krishna in life - living, breathing, wise entities who have something very humanly admirable about them. My Krishna exists in combination of real and imagined entities. 
18. I love getting clicked. 
    
19. I met poetry last year. It made me happy, but then caused immeasurable pain. I am trying to meet it again now, through a concept called Poets' Collective. I have no clue where it will go - but I do know that I will not try too hard again in life. 
    
20. I am trying to lose weight these days. Extra volume doesn't bother me. Alarmingly low levels of stamina do. 

Bonus - I am obsessed with the idea of becoming the flow, whatever that means. 

I would love it if the following people to repeat the exercise on their respective blogs - Achint Mathur, Manan Kulshreshtha, Neha Menon, Navin Dutta, Sudhanshu Shekhar Tiwari, Neelkamal Pandey, Yogesh Pandey, Aakriti Mallik, Kunal, Archika Poria, Varun Rustagi and anyone else who happens to drop by here. Leave a link to your blog in the comment section below. I would love to visit and know a little more about you.