Odd title, right? I am a sucker for classic novels, and would have not picked this up on my own had not my friend told me that it is written by Nisha Susan – the co-founder and writer of my favorite feminist blog ‘the Ladies Finger’.
I had discovered Ladies Finger several years ago, when I was randomly browsing for a random movie review. It instantly struck a chord with me – for it was a quirky, unabashed voice of women (and for women). The tone of its articles was something which was quite novel for me. The most endearing part about Ladies Finger was that the touch of humor did not water down the seriousness of the issues of misogyny and sexism that it addressed through its articles. Far from it. In fact, it channelized it into something even better – an earnest and sincere ridicule of the patriarchal system. Hell, I was so impressed by their whole ‘rolling of the eyes’ attitude that I dreamt of writing like these women one day. I know for that to happen, I need to put my hair and my guard down a little bit, relax and ponder and stop taking so many things to my heart. Anyway.
Coming back to the book, it is a compilation of 12 short stories, published at different stages by the author (as I learnt later). The book came with a glowing recommendation from my friend, also a feminist even if she doesn’t like to use those labels (the actual rolling of eyes).
I read the first two stories sitting on her bed on a fine morning.
Somehow, one story brought swift tears to my eyes. Not that any of the stories are really tragic per say, they are bitter sweet narratives- rants – of women and men navigating patriarchy and the liberal market capitalism, that is just pushing its way ahead without teaching us how to deal with these changing lifestyles. I think something about the story of how easily the girls in that story had to give up their freedom and rationalize about it made me cry. It was just the story of so many young Indian Girls.
At night, I got my periods, which perhaps explained my surging emotions in the morning. The cramps and the blues again made me feel the plight of the girls – this time almost like a physical ache. Their dreams, their aspirations, their secrets as they grew up – and how later they convinced themselves that none of this really existed because they could not rebel against their families for it. Everything was just so life.
There was one story which was a rip off of my favorite novel Rebbecca, almost like an ode to it. How does one feel when we suddenly find an insight into our partner’s dead ex – some of secrets unknownst even to him? Like Rebbecca set the tone forever for this obsessing over the departed ex, this story is also an enigma.
Then there was another of my favorites stories – of a fierce, single mother coming in terms of her daughter’s not so ‘respectable affairs’ taking place over missed calls. Or the one in which a virtual dating site leads a young, one-who-thinks-herself-as-sensible woman astray (I can very well write a separate piece on this, adding experiences of me and my friends trying to search ‘lasting’ relationships on the dating apps).
Each story is a unique experience of women – young and old, married and unmarried, career oriented and broke, the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. The stories ring with a warmth and vibrancy, in spite of the harshness of the reality that they actually put forward. They are raw and unfiltered, breaking form and structure – open about the ‘forbidden’ ridiculous, unattainable desires of women. They flow.
Another thing that binds these stories together is the way they explore the mindsets and the relationships of people are changing with the coming of the internet in India (which explains the odd title).
Most of them are written from a woman’s point of view, with her as the first person sometimes. There were a few written as a man’s narrative too. The interesting part was – because all these stories were written by a woman – the men’s narratives just summed up how men actually perceive women in different ways – and sometimes (or rather most times) objectify them.
There is one story, to give an example, where a man is explaining how a women should feel safe in the aftermath of a rape (many rapes) in our Capital – with no real notion of how it is to be out on the streets alone with fear of predators lurking all around.
Sigh. Another slice of life.
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Just as the stories have no coherent end – somehow today even I am at a loss on how to end this review. How does our life end up, I mean? How do we define relationships in this modern, consumer oriented times where everything comes with a price and everything entails a give and take?
The Internet has changed our perceptions about the world, and our projections too. When you are not what you appear to be on Instagram – how can you guarantee what the other person from the other part of the world that you are chatting endlessly, really is? What I can say is, just like Nisha Susan, let us all take a paper and pen and write down our own unique stories. We may still not be able to define stuff, understand the complications of life, but let us at least reclaim our narratives.
Let’s do that. And also, read more books.