‘Water in a Broken Pot’ is a memoir we must all read

 “Water in a Broken Pot” is the memoir of Yogesh Maitreya, who is a poet, writer, translator and the founder of Panter’s Paw Publications, which is devoted to publishing literature by Dalit- Bahujan writers. The book chronicles his experiences of pain, loneliness, depravation, alienation, and the growing political consciousness of his caste identity. Maitreya is a person who refuses to fit in and do what is expected of him. His is a search for self, and for asserting his identity in a system which continues to be casteist and exclusionary.

Throughout the book, the author keeps returning to the idea of stories, and how a casteist society denies Dalits the right to their stories. He says his family history is like a broken pot- many shards are missing, and no matter how hard he tries, the family story will never be fully replicated. He talks about his own memories of growing up- “So I have my own memories… my only clue and bridge to my story…. Memory is the only possession that one can take away from a Dalit; otherwise caste-society has the heinous power to make a Dalit forget who they are because they are made to hate themselves.”

During his childhood, he was very close to his father, and they enjoyed watching Bollywood movies. Those were the days of the Angry Young Man, and perhaps his father identified with the hero who was fighting for justice. It was only much later that the author realised that Dalits were invisible in those movies, and that in reality the might of the system was used to crush vocal Dalit voices.

As he grew older, he recognised that his father, like many other Dalits, sought escape in alcohol, and that he took out the frustration of being rendered invisible in the world on his wife. The author’s struggle is to be different from his father- to carve his own identity and to ensure that his voice was heard.

His relationship with women is similarly complex. He has passionate long term relationships with more than one savarna woman, but in each of them, while the woman is willing to invest emotionally and physically in the relationship, there is a reluctance to take it forward. In each case, she takes adequate precautions to ensure that her family does not know about her relationship with a Dalit man, and caste is perhaps the reason for them breaking up. This is symptomatic of inter-caste relationships in India- very few stand the test of time- and as long as it remains socially unacceptable for a savarna (or OBC) woman to marry a Dalit man, we cannot claim that caste has no relevance in our lives.

One of the most poignant passages in the book is when his grandmother dies, and he writes-

Non-Dalits may find it unbelievable, but death for Dalits is metaphorical. An “Untouchable” never existed as a person worthy of respect from society or recognised as a mind. He was simply invisible, except when his labour was extracted, exploited and used for free….. Not existing for others, not being recognised by others, is a condition of simply not being extant. It is in this sense that death is metaphorical for Dalits…. Suffice to say, that as long as the caste system will prevail, physical death for Dalits will always remain metaphorical. Their actual death lies in an inability to be in text, or transform into a text as a story, memory and history.

It is this erasure from history that the author has dedicated his life to fighting. As a poet, as a writer, as a translator and as a publisher, he is doing all he can to ensure that the dreams, aspirations, and reality of the Dalits is documented. Their search for an identity that will accord them the self respect that they deserve, and which has been denied to them by a society built on caste lines.

Why is it important for savarnas to read Yogesh Maitreya’s memoir?

Many well-meaning savarnas believe that the emancipation of Dalits lies in economic prosperity. We recognise that most Dalits do not have access to the education, the role models and the networks that others have access to, and we like to believe that once these inequities are removed, over the course of a few generations, Dalits will no longer remain an oppressed community. However, Yogesh Maitreya reminds us that the problem is far more deep seated- it is the invisiblisation of Dalits that is the problem. Till we start seeing Dalits as equal human beings, and not as units of production, there can never be justice. Dalits deserve to be treated with the same respect as anyone else, and this memoir reminds us that it can only happen with the total annihilation of caste.

[I received an ARC of the book, however my review contains my honest opinion.]

Book Review: Legal Fiction

 

“Everything in Legal Fiction is fiction. All that is fiction is fiction, of course, but even truth is fiction. If the people, stories, places and incidents at any point appear to be true, it is our collective misfortune. We advise you to consider it a fault of the imagination and move on.”

I read these lines three times, before I thought I could get a glimmer of Chandan Pandey was trying to convey. After finishing the book, I circled back to these lines, and they finally started to make sense.

The book deals with an India where reality and fiction coexist so seamlessly, you cannot distinguish between the two. An India where the enactment of play appears more real than reality itself. An India where life imitates art, and art is based on life.

The story is loosely based on a now forgotten incident where a policemen saved a man from a lynch mob. But the characters and settings are universal. We hear mumbles of similar incidents, which are soon drowned out by tidal wave of fiction and misdirection, till all that remains in the memory is a vague sense of resentment against the favourite enemy!

The book tackles the issues that define small town India- growing religious intolerance, corruption, patriarchy, intimidation, violence and fear. It dares you to look in the mirror to confront a reality you want to avoid. It forces you to look at an India where reality and fiction blend so seamlessly you find it hard to distinguish between the two.

*spoiler alert*
The book ends where you least expect it to, leaving you to write your one ending. Is the writer challenging us to chart our own destiny?
*end spoiler*

The work is a translation, but at no stage did it seem translated. The flavour of the original was captured so well, you almost caught yourself mentally translating them back to the original Hindi/ Bhojpuri.

A difficult read. But if there is one book you want to read to understand the India of today, it is this.

Book review- Inferior, by Angela Saini

Inferior: How Science Got Women Wrong and the New Research That's Rewriting the Story, 2017

As a woman who speaks about gender equity, I am often gaslighted by people saying "but you cannot deny that there is an intrinsic difference between men and women. Women are meant to be nurturers. Why would you want to claim equality when you are actually superior."

While my response to them is to attempt to explain that except child bearing and lactation, everything else is gender agnostic, 'Inferior' adds to my arsenal by giving evidence that the psychological differences that we see are largely shaped by culture and not biology.

Everything that Angela Saini says in the book, Inferior, is in public domain. What she does it put it all together in one place in a manner that is easy to digest and refer to later. The chapter I particularly liked was on Women, the Gatherer, where she gives examples to show that even in hunting, which is considered the one profession that was the exclusive preserve of men, women were more effective in bringing home a regular source of hunted meat.

It was almost frustrating to read about the sexist attitude of people like Charles Darwin who really should have known better-

"I certainly think that women, though generally superior to men [in] moral qualities are inferior intellectually, and there seems to me to be a great difficulty from the laws of inheritance (if I understand these laws rightly) in their becoming the intellectual equals of man."

You can feel her pain when she says, about how women in science- 

"science has failed to rid us of the gender stereotypes and dangerous myths we've been laboring under for centuries. Women are so grossly underrepresented in modern science because, for most of history, they were treated as intellectual inferiors and deliberately excluded from it. It should come as no surprise, then, that this same scientific establishment has also painted a distorted picture of the female sex. This, in turn again, has skewed how science looks and what it says even now."

While she talks at length about science, the same holds true in almost every profession. Women need to overcome many invisible challenges to enter and compete in most professions- to then use the fact that women are underrepresented to draw the conclusion that women are not suitable for the profession is an insidious self-reinforcing fallacy.

Angela Saini calls out the establishment that selectively uses data that reinforces their claims, while underplaying data that could discredit it. However, there are times when her own personal biases against certain researchers comes through- you certainly agree with her, because those people ended up doing a lot of harm, but the book would have been more powerful if she had let the data speak instead of sneaking in a few sly points. 

Overall, a book I am going to return to often, and one which I hope more people read before with an open mind. 

To end, a quote from the book- 

"equality isn't just a political ideal but every woman's natural, biological right."

Book Review: Children of the Hidden Land

 When you think YA, you think of a quick read. The best among them are perceptive, extremely well written, and draw attention to important issues. They linger long after you finish the book, but can normally be read in a couple of sittings. I started reading Mandira Shah's "Children of the Hidden Land" expecting to finish it fast, but after a single chapter, I realised it was a book that needed to be savoured.

In the first few pages, you meet Henthoiba, a tech whizz, who has built a drone that resembles an eagle to be used in wildlife conservation. While doing a test flight, he stumbles upon something so unexpected, he rushes to investigate… and disappears.

The story begins with his best friend April going through the contents of his bag hoping to find a clue that will lead her to him. April, who is from Manipur meets and befriends Shalini, the daughter of an army officer. Despite the ideological difference between the communities they come from, they form an strong partnership and complement the skills of each other as they gradually unravel the clues and make intuitive guesses in their investigation.

The book moves at a fast pace, with the two girls getting out of one situation only to fall into another. You are amazed at the tech skills of the teenagers, and how well they are able to leverage the internet to get what it takes to move ahead.

The book is set in Manipur, a state I know almost nothing about. By the end of the book, I learn a lot about the insurgency, of how the state falls in the route for smuggling drugs, of children kidnapped and trafficked, of how children forced to join the insurgents and the perception of the Indian Army among the locals. You realise how little of the situation in North-East is covered by mainstream media, and you are determined to read more about the place.

Perhaps what I loved about the book was the strong characterisation of the two girls. They come from very different backgrounds, have different attributes and skills, but they are essentially very similar people. Without saying so in as many words, the author draws attention to the intrinsic inequity of life- some people have to struggle to attain even a fraction of what others take as their due.

“Children of the Hidden Land” is a stunning debut, and I look forward to reading more from the author.

Book Review: Bad Blood

 Unputdownable is the only word to describe John Carreyrou’s ‘Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup’. Though the story of the rise and rise and rise and ultimate fall of the Silicon Valley bio-tech start-up, Theranos, (and its Founder CEO, Elizabeth Holmes) is well known, the book still reads like a fictional thriller.

I remember reading a profile of the Founder CEO, Elizabeth Holmes in 2014, and being absolutely impressed by her youth, her beauty, and her obvious brilliance. It almost seemed like a fairy tale- a 19 year old engineering student coming up with an idea that will revolutionize medical diagnostics, and setting up a company that will make her the richest self-made female. How could someone so young develop a revolutionary technology, and also set up a successful company, I wondered. The answer lies in this book.

It was precisely her lack of scientific knowledge that empowered Elizabeth Holmes to chase an idea that someone with even a bit of experience would know could never work for practical reasons. Like a primary school student drawing a fantastic beast, Elizabeth Holme’s idea had everything- a single drop of blood drawn from the finger, miniature device, multiple tests conducted simultaneously, results out virtually in real time. She didn’t have the expertise to make any of it happen, but she had the charisma to sell her Vision to others. And she drove them to do what was impossible.

Her youth and her passion impressed a group of very powerful older men, who became her greatest champions. Most of them didn’t understand the technology, but were swayed by her vision, and the fact that others from their network believed in her was sufficient for them. It is often said that men have access to Old Boys Networks in a way that women never do- but Elizabeth Holmes, either despite or perhaps because of her gender was able to tap into them as few others could.

The story of Theranos is the story of many tech start-ups. Fake it till you make it. Holmes never even had a working prototype, but she had the audacity to sell her vision to many. It was a classic case of creating an image and letting the image sell itself- even prestigious medical schools went out of their way to honour her merely on the basis of her assertions. Her Board was so packed with heavyweights, that nobody noticed she didn’t have a single expert from the field of medical diagnostics there. The financial projections were never met, and product deadlines were constantly missed, yet she successfully worked on FOMO to ensure her backers stayed with her.

Carreyrou dismisses any theories of Holmes being misled. From the earliest days, the start up resorted to distortions and untruths. During live demonstrations, fake results would be beamed to impress prospective partners and investors. Code was written to ensure that when the device malfunctioned, instead of beaming an error message, the progress bar would appear to slow down, so people decided not to wait for the results but pick it up later at which time false results would be submitted.

Bad Blood is the story of a Founder CEO who was all image but no domain expertise. Employees were recruited by selling a vision, and then insane demands were placed on them. The corporate culture was personality driven, and nobody was allowed to offer constructive criticism or push back on insane demands. People who left (or were asked to leave) were threatened with lawsuits if they went back on the non-disclosure agreements they signed.

Theranos never had the product they claimed they had- more effort was put on the aesthetics of the product than in the product itself. None of the USPs which Holmes spoke about in public were actualised. Yet, they were able to maintain the illusion for over a decade and raise multiple rounds of funding. Had Theranos been a regular tech start up, a lot of it could have been forgiven. But the consumers were people, and the decisions of life and death were taken based on the test results. Errors, and there were several, could have proved fatal. Which is why employees quit, and the entire investigation was launched.

Bad Blood reads like a thriller- at times, it seems too unrealistic even to be fiction. We keep marvelling at how so many were fooled for so long by so little. The cast of characters is varied and well etched. It is an exemplary piece of writing, which will appeal to many. Above all, it is a cautionary tale.

Book Review: Kari

 Kari’s smouldering black eyes drilled into my soul from the stark cover of Amruta Patil’s graphic novel for almost a month before I finally gathered the courage to dive into the turgid dark waters of her Soul. Kari, the protagonist, inhabits the same time and space that I called home for several years- we might even have taken the same local train to work or back- yet, superficially, we couldn’t be more different.

Brooding, melancholy, drawn to the dark, Kari introspects on the urban lifestyle, on sexuality and people’s reaction of fidelity, on lesbian relationships and how the heterosexual society often sees it as a temporary deviant, on paternal expectations and the guilt of children, on domestic violence and the studied silence of society when it encounters it. As Kari navigates the labyrinth of ‘Smog City’, collecting symbols like we collect ticket stubs, you start seeing glimpses of yourself in Kari and of Kari in you.

The book is in sombre colours. Like the world Kari inhabits- 

“Smog city looks even more anaemic in the sun. Left to itself long enough, everything in the world withers, wastes, fades away to brown and grey. Tarpaulin and trash. Cinders and ash. Vegetables turn to potty. Red curtains colourless, add to this, streams of women and women, like rotos and slaves, in equally tired colours. We are scared of too much colour.”

But when you least expect it, that monochromatic world gets drenched in colour. Sometimes, it is the colour of the magical, sometimes of the mundane. But colour it is.

Some of her musings are spot on-

“There are settling girls, and there are unsettling girls. The ones who seem to have it in them to be flyers are the ones who want to snuggle into settling. The ones who look as settled as old housedogs want to twist their way into flying. Necessarily, you must be defensive about being a settling sort of girl.”

“The Airlines lady who travels in the same compartment as us day after day, has bruises on her arms and face today and her eyes keep welling, but no one asks her why. Our eyes dart towards her, but we go back to travelling in too much proximity. Two inches from one another and expressionless.”

“I wait to watch their train leave just as I waited to watch their train pull in. I wait till they have disappeared. Until the next train pulls in. I have temporarily regressed to being a guilt ridden and miserable child.”

Amruta Patil’s ‘Kari’, for all practical purposes, is the first graphic novel for adults that I read, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. Having read it, I now wonder if the bar is set too high.

Behold, I Shine

 [Q: How do you review a book which taught you so much?

A: You don’t even try.]

“It is often assumed that the women of Kashmir have not suffered the brunt of direct violence as much as the men there have done. But is that really true? Or is the scale of their suffering underestimated because it is difficult to access women’s stories? Also, what of the indirect violence that has been inflicted on them- shouldn’t that be accounted for?”

Freny Manecksha’s “Behold, I Shine” attempts to document the voices and narratives of the women and children of Kashmir. She examines the ongoing conflict in Kashmir through the gender-sensitive lens, and through stories attempts to answer questions like- has militarization hardened existing patriarchal structures, how do notions of security interact with the patriarchal belief that the rights of a girl child are less than those of the boy, how do young women cope with the overwhelming restrictions in the Valley, how women who are victims of sexual violence also need to deal with the reactions of society, are women in Kashmir supressing their fight for gender rights because of the larger fight for azadi. With sensitivity and grace, Manecksha examines each of these issues, and more.

There is an overwhelming number of “half widows” in Kashmir- women who’s husbands have “disappeared”, and they do not know if he is still alive or dead. Not only is the “half widow” left in an emotional limbo of not knowing what happened, she is forced to fend for her family financially. More importantly, she is often required to negotiate the spaces between her natal and marital family, neither of which wants to acknowledge her agency. Her quest for justice can only continue after overcoming all those other factors that seek to derail it, and the quest itself opens her up to further vulnerability.

The book examines how a woman’s body is converted into a battlefield. Of how victims of sexual abuse have to deal not only with the violence of the act, but the violence of a society that continues to shame her, the victim. Manecksha talks of how by articulating the question of why a woman who was raped is not accorded the same status as a martyr, people are forcing society to acknowledge that rape is a political weapon, and thereby delinked from shame and loss of honour.

The book describes how mothers of sons who have disappeared use their conventional and highly personal identity as a mother to draw attention to the deeply political issue. Manecksha describes how some women have used their personal loss to transform themselves into activists drawing attention to a larger cause.

However, it is not only those who have suffered direct losses who are impacted. Manecksha talks of how minimization has reduced access to public spaces. These shared public spaces were spaces where women could meet other women and have everyday conversations. How does losing them impact women? The chapter on how Sufi shrines become a safe place for women has a particularly poignant statement- “Shrines are radical spaces where women can experience spirituality, chat with a friend and even have something to eat afterwards”. These are words that will resonate with many, not just from the Valley.

Manecksha discusses how “care”, “control” and “concern” often overlap. Women, particularly, are subject to restrictions, including restrictions on behaviour and clothing. What do women in a conflict zone like Kashmir think about gender rights- does the fight for azadi mean that gender issues should take a backseat?

Though the book begins with a brief introduction to the “Kashmir problem”, what it does not do is to go into the details of the struggle or the reasons behind the rise of militancy. Instead, the book focusses on the women who bear the double burdens of patriarchy and being caught in the crossfire of militarization.

The book is a must read for anyone who wants to understand the gendered aspects of the conflict in Kashmir. Manecksha has done a brilliant job in weaving together the diverse narratives of women from Kashmir to bring out the picture of the double burden that women carry. ‘Behold, I Shine’ is a tribute to their unwavering spirit, which is summed up in one Facebook post-

“Some want to put the hijab on me and save me. Some want to take the hijab off me and save me. Just give me a break, man! I can save myself.”

Annihilation of Caste- a critical review

 [My impressions after reading Annihilation of Caste, by Dr. Ambedkar]

I first read Dr. Ambedkar’s essay a few years back when I had just started thinking about caste and how it is important to acknowledge caste exists and working to dismantle it, instead of sweeping it under the rug of poverty alleviation.

Why did I re-read Annihilation of Caste?

In the years between the first read to now, I have sharpened my own thinking. Had numerous discussions (often acrimonious ones) with Ambedkarites who speak glibly about “destruction of Hinduism” without getting into how they propose to do it, or what they will replace Hinduism with. I have witnessed Amebdkarites lock horns with Communists and as a keen but dispassionate observer seen how each calls the other casteist for approaching the issue of casteism from different directions (I also saw how at Gail Omvedt’s funeral, chants of “Jai Bheem” and “Lal Salam” were raised in tandem). Above all, I have seen how everyone who quotes AoC seems to have no clue about how to go about doing what they want to do.

I picked up the “Annihilation of Caste: with a reply to Mahatma Gandhi” with the full weight of expectations on it. I had already internalised the issues relating to caste privilege and of how relative economic affluence does not necessarily translate into lack of social oppression. I had no doubt that “….the real method of breaking up the Caste System was not to bring about inter-caste dinners and inter-caste marriages but to destroy the religious notions on which Caste was founded”. I recognise that what is needed is “social reform in the sense of the reorganization and reconstruction of the Hindu Society”. What I really expected from the book was the “how”. How does one bring about the destruction of a practice sanctioned by religion.

Unfortunately no solutions are offered

Alas, no solutions were offered. Dr Ambedkar says, and rightly that “To ask people to give up Caste is to ask them to go contrary to their fundamental religious notions.” Since caste system is a hierarchy in which the divisions of labourers are graded one above the other, when people seek the annihilation of caste, they stand to lose as much as they gain. There is a great incentive for preserving the status quo, especially since to get out of that, you need to take on the entire nation.

Dr. Ambedkar calls for the “ancient rules of life be annulled” and that “its place … be taken by a Religion of Principles, which alone can lay claim to being a true Religion.” Drawing a distinction between principles and rules, he rightly points out that “the principle may be wrong but the act is conscious and responsible. The rule may be right but the act is mechanical. A religious act may not be a correct act but must at least be a responsible act.”

However, he leaves it at that. He urges Hindus to take on the task of overthrowing the religion which has too many inflexible and inhuman rules, and replacing it with “a society based on Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.” But he doesn’t tell us how to make that happen.

In the context of 1936, and given the fact that the address was to be made to a society which was working towards annihilation of caste, the fact that he doesn’t offer solutions doesn’t matter. What is disappointing is that today the work is selectively quoted, and his vague calls for action are offered as solutions. Which they are not. I felt let down because the book did not address what I sought.

Which should come first- political reforms or social?

There was a long analysis on the order in which political reforms, economic reforms and social reforms could take place. How a person addresses that question depends on where they stand. Someone from a privileged social position will prioritise political reforms since that affects them most deeply. But post-Independence history has shown that unless one continues demanding social reform after attaining political reform, it gets missed out. In the context of today, in my opinion, since the prevailing political ideology is pushing society towards greater casteism, political reforms will need to be dealt with on priority, though social reforms continue in parallel.

Read the book if you are looking to learn about caste system

If you are looking to learn about the caste system, and why it should be weeded out completely, this is the book for you. To illustrate how petty the upholders of the caste system could be, one example from the book would suffice.

In November 1935, some untouchable women of well-to-do families started fetching water in metal pots. The Hindus looked upon the use of metal pots by untouchables as an affront to their dignity and assaulted the untouchable women for their impudence.

Similarly, people from the lower caste were not permitted to consume ghee, wear gold bordered clothes, or gold/ silver jewelry (things have not changed much- even today they are not permitted to ride horses during wedding celebrations or style their moustaches in a way deemed inappropriate).

As Dr. Ambedkar puts it, caste system is not, as popularly thought ‘division of labour’. It is the division of labourers, in a tightly controlled and static manner.

However, if (like I did) you are seeking answers to questions you are already asking, you may be disappointed because he too is asking those same questions.

The distinction between rules and principles

Dr. Ambedkar made a distinction between rules and principles. Rules are practical, principles are intellectual.

“Rules seek to tell an agent just what course of action to pursue . Principles do not prescribe a specific course of action. A principle supplies a main head by reference to which he is to consider the bearings of his desires and purposes , it guides him in his thinking by suggesting to him the important consideration which he should bear in mind.”

He rightly points out that even when a rule is right, the act of obeying it is mechanical, and even if the principle is wrong, the act is conscious and responsible. Since a religious act should be a conscious act, “Religion must mainly be a matter of principles only . It cannot be a matter of rules.” Unfortunately, however, as Mahatma Gandhi points out in his response to the essay, by this rule, most religions will fail.

Why did I give the book 4 stars and not 5?

I would have still given the book five stars- that the author offers no solutions does not in any way take away from the phenomenal work done by him in explaining the intricacies of the caste system.

The reason I gave the book only 4 stars was because I did not find him a totally unbiased observer. For example, a lot of what Dr. Ambedkar said about Hinduism holds equally true for all religions. Almost all religions are dogmatic, almost all religions discourage reasoning, almost all religions are a collection of static rules. Yet, only Hinduism was singled out for criticism. Since it was about the caste system, I can understand why that might be so. However, in other sections of the book, Hinduism was compared to other religions and found wanting. Since they were brought up as a contrast, for the sake of neutrality, they should have been mentioned in other contexts too. Either keep it about one religion only or criticise all- selectiveness shows a marked bias.

Book Review: Second-Hand Time

One tends to use the word “brilliant” quite loosely, but if one book totally deserves being called that, it is this. The book is written as a series of reminiscences- the people are often not identified, and at times one set of memories merges into another, but there are so many perspectives that between them, a composite picture gradually starts to emerge.

One is left almost incredulous at how people, despite suffering in the hands of Communism continue to swear by it. One wonders why some people wanted a change, and others didn’t. One is amazed at how people willingly put up with poverty as long as they had their books. One wonders about the resilience of a nation that keeps springing back.

As someone who believed in Communism and hoped it would usher in a better world. As someone who watched the rise of Gorbachev and bought into his vision of perestroika and glasnost. As one who saw the death of the Soviet Union and the emergence of the CIS, the book was a fascinating look from within.

Svetlana Alexievich has been called the ‘memory and conscience of the twentieth century’. This book proves why she earned the title. Her’s is a unique literary genre, one that blends journalism with lyricism; or as the Nobel Prize committee described it, “a history of emotions . . . a history of the soul.”

But what stands tall over her literally style, is the portrait of the nation and her people. What remains with you after you finish the books is this one quote- “In five years, everything can change in Russia, but in two hundred — nothing.”

Book Review: On Balance, An Autobiography

We are what we are because of the many women who opened doors and left them ajar for us. Leila Seth is one such woman. I knew she had been a practicing lawyer, the first female judge to be appointed to the Delhi High Court judge and the first woman to be the Chief Justice of a High Court. I also knew her as a woman who stood up for LGBTQ rights, and who wrote a beautiful book for children introducing them to the Constitution. I picked up "On Balance, An Autobiography" because I was curious to know the lady behind those accomplishments. And I was delighted.

In a lot of ways, Leila Seth reminds me of so many women of her generation that I know. Women like my mother and grandmother who kept perfect homes. Women like my grandmother who ran households which straddled joint family sensibilities with nuclear family constraints. Women who took the hard decision to send their children to boarding school so their studies would not be interrupted.

What makes Leila Seth extra special was that she did all of that and also was extremely successful professionally. How she landed up studying and practicing law seems almost serendipitous, but once she qualified, it was clearly her grit and knowledge that got her to scale the professional peaks that she did. Like many other women of her (and subsequent) generations, she followed her husband around, till they (like many other couples) took the decision to settle in a city of their choice. She did it with grace, even though it meant virtually starting afresh each time.

Reading the book through the prism of today, you notice the emotional burden she carried throughout her life. Despite her qualifications and her success, she is the one who silently does the things she would have been expected to do if she had not been working. The only time she speaks of that is in the poignant passage on her time as Chief Justice in the Shimla High Court where she says that for the first time ever she was living for herself. That passage more than anything else, sends out a strong message that this emotional burden is something that should be acknowledged, because only after acknowledging it can we work towards changing it.

As someone who grew up in small towns in Eastern India, I loved the description of her life in Darjeeling and her pen portrait of the many gardens she knew. Her account of her years in Calcutta brought back many pleasant memories. If my mother writes her memoirs, she can pick large chunks out of the book.

Leila Seth is also, as we know, the mother of Vikram Seth, and the protagonist of 'A Suitable Boy' is loosely based on her. A lot of people thought that Latha of the book could have married "better"- that the man she chose was not at all 'a suitable boy'. After reading this autobiography you understand exactly why Premo Seth and only Premo Seth was the "Suitable Boy" for the amazing Leila Seth.

If you like reading a well written autobiographies written in a slightly self deprecating tone; if you are a woman who wants to know and understand the women who paved the way for us; if you love "A Suitable Boy", then this book is for you.

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.

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.

Book Review- Landscapes of Loss

 I picked up Kavitha Iyer's 'Landscapes of Loss: The Story of an Indian drought' because someone I trust described it as "Superb reporting. Terrific writing". She was absolutely right. It is a brilliant book. One I wish everyone would read.

Kavitha concludes the book with ".... to introduce readers to real people, their very real everyday struggles, their occasional triumphs and their unremitting agitations requesting justice. The countryside has spoken. I hope urban India finds it in its heart to listen."

And doing so, she sets 'Landscapes of Loss', her detailed chronicle of ongoing struggles in drought prone Marathwada within the much larger context of the ongoing Farmers' Agitation in the country.

Marathwada is one of the most drought prone regions in the country, and most of us hear of it when there is a spate of farmer suicides which make it to the headlines. The book goes much beyond that.

It takes us through how the drought affects entire communities, how relief measures fall short of expectations. It breaks down caste dynamics, and looks at how women are affected even worse than men.

Importantly, the book looks at the reasons for the water crisis, and analyses how the proposed measures might only delay the crisis by a few years. She shows us how what is needed is not annual relief measures, but a systematic change in how we view water as a resource.

Above all, the book introduces us to the people of Marathwada- their distress, their successes, their hopes and their reality. Though their stories, she inspires us to do more. 'Landscapes of Loss' is a MUST read.