Exploding myths

The tale is told through the eyes of a little boy, wise beyond his ears yet possessing the charming innocence of a child.

The story is satirical in nature with no character being identified by a regular name. 

Whilst the protagonist is known as ‘the boy’ and some of the characters identified by their relationship to him, references to Psoriasis, Cowdung, Duffer, Flunkie-Junkie, Shampoo Girl and the like, help to create their own mental pictures about the people behind these names. The other unusual approach to this novel is the complete absence of quotation marks which, despite deviating from established grammatical prescriptions, does not strain the reader.

This multi-layered tale makes for fascinating reading, with the detached tone that Abha adopts. Keeping family relationships at the centre of her story, she is able to blend in the happenings of the outdoor world and their impact on the different members of the clan.

Dawesar manages a dig at familial prototypes in such an understated manner that one wonders whether these are tongue-in-cheek observations or just plain statements.  The almost-90 grandfather who refuses to discuss property and inheritance matters, the scheming son and family who hope to inveigle the old man into leaving his house to them, the ever-suffering aunt who is bullied by her husband and others in the family — are all there for the reader to laugh over even as s/he realises the truth in these characterisations.

From the many subjects that are touched upon and their resemblance to real-life events, it is clear that the author has done a good bit of research. Readers will surely notice similarities with the Bofors Scandal and Win Chadda’s role, the Nithari killings and the Jessica Lal murder, among others. Despite largely adopting an observer’s approach, Abha does not fight shy of making political observations as she writes about the rampant corruption and skulduggery that exists in the bureaucracy. The story also touches on the middle-class dilemma of looking down on the poor and also feeling sorry for their state. 

Dawesar manages to pack a lot of issues into the story. There are references to social customs ranging from the traditional bride hunt, to the matching of horoscopes and finally the big fat Indian wedding where the girl’s side is supposed to fork out for most of the expenses. Abha reveals a feminist streak here, as there is a questioning approach to the demands made on the bride’s side. She also casts a canny eye on moral and ethical dilemmas and the compromises that middle-class families are sometimes forced to make.
The details on medical complaints do at times get tedious, with the boy listening in on his doctor parents in their consulting chamber. The delving into bodily functions and emissions, especially the graphic details, seem to recur many times in the book. One wonders if this is an extension of the realism! The book seems to follow a slow pace and then hurries up in the last few chapters, perhaps at the editor’s instance. Abha employs an original, literary style of writing and the book is definitely worth a read.

FAMILY VALUES
Abha Dawesar
Penguin India,
2008, pp 296, Rs 325