<p>We are familiar with attempts to align history with a narrative that supports contemporary socio-political agendas. In such a scenario, history becomes an endless cycle of vengeance and reprisal. Memory gets weaponised, with tribal instincts and prejudice guiding human consciousness. But should we allow the past to dictate the present? At a time when religion, language, class and ethno-nationalism divide humanity, is there a way out to build a future that is more equitable and just?</p>.<p>Bengaluru-based writer M K Shankar, in his debut novel The Convert, confronts readers with the questions plaguing humanity in troubled times. The novel tells the story of Christopher, an orphan raised by the mysterious Father Francis. His search for his roots begins with the revelation that his Christian upbringing had concealed his origin as a Brahmin named Krishna Degaonkar. In the course of his scholarly pursuit, he stumbles upon the astonishing tale of Dharmadhara, a visionary whose story intertwines with Christopher’s.</p>.<p><strong>Vague restlessness</strong></p>.<p>Dharmadhara’s experiment to form a utopian community based on trust and equality ends disastrously after inviting violent backlash from the orthodoxy. The commune valued dignity and fellowship over dogma. Diverse forms of worship were anathema to the upper castes. There was resistance to the re-division of labour. Not many were prepared to forgo their past occupations and forget their caste identity. It was a community comprising people from diverse backgrounds — Lingayats, Goan Christians, Deccan Muslims, Madigas, Holeyas, Bedas, Kurubas, and Nayakas. From childhood, Dharmadhara felt a sense of guilt due to his privileged life and wondered why many people like him led such a pathetic existence. He found them not impure but poor.</p>.<p>Curiosity drove him to know more about how others lived. He felt his world needed urgent repair. Even years after leading a vagabond’s life, he remains restless. Dharmadhara exhorts villagers to keep the environment clean and imparts lessons to children. His advice to them: question, observe, test and confirm for yourselves. His is a search for a moral self in a fractured world, inspired by the Buddha’s compassion and Ashoka’s renunciation. He believed in the innate goodness of human beings. People trusted him, as he had no airs. For him, the way forward is action born of love and care.</p>.<p>A slice of 18th- and 19th-century Deccan history forms the backdrop of the novel — a multilingual (Kannada, Marathi and Portuguese), caste-infested, faith-dominated milieu marked by daily struggles between ‘devotion and dissent’ and ‘power and compassion’. Readers get an inkling of the tensions that shaped modern Indian society and spiritual thought. There are graphic accounts of people groaning under the oppressive caste system and elaborate rituals of purification. There are tales of people fleeing to the Deccan to escape the Portuguese Inquisition in Goa, with soldiers chasing them.</p>.<p>The novel joins a stream of literature that examines the moral and metaphysical dimensions of humanity. According to the author, The Convert is a philosophical and historical novel through which runs a thread of faith, caste and power. At the core of the novel is the story of identity, faith and how one comes to terms with the past. While memory may be weaponised to settle scores, it can also provide a path to dialogue and reconciliation, enabling a new beginning. The task is not easy. In the context of right-wing efforts to rewrite history, The Convert has added significance. The novel considers conversion not as an escape from one world into another but as a detour taken by fellow travellers. The Convert, originally planned as a biography, took 10 years to complete.</p>.<p>Shankar deftly uses the technique of a story within a story, along with elements of mystery. He faithfully portrays the bygone era. Eerie references to the devastating famine of the period, dubbed the ‘skull famine’ as the countryside was strewn with bones and skulls, point to painstaking research. Christopher’s clashes with the Church expose the divide between Christ’s teachings and the official doctrine, and the unedifying power struggle within. A good read for lovers of the historical novel.</p>
<p>We are familiar with attempts to align history with a narrative that supports contemporary socio-political agendas. In such a scenario, history becomes an endless cycle of vengeance and reprisal. Memory gets weaponised, with tribal instincts and prejudice guiding human consciousness. But should we allow the past to dictate the present? At a time when religion, language, class and ethno-nationalism divide humanity, is there a way out to build a future that is more equitable and just?</p>.<p>Bengaluru-based writer M K Shankar, in his debut novel The Convert, confronts readers with the questions plaguing humanity in troubled times. The novel tells the story of Christopher, an orphan raised by the mysterious Father Francis. His search for his roots begins with the revelation that his Christian upbringing had concealed his origin as a Brahmin named Krishna Degaonkar. In the course of his scholarly pursuit, he stumbles upon the astonishing tale of Dharmadhara, a visionary whose story intertwines with Christopher’s.</p>.<p><strong>Vague restlessness</strong></p>.<p>Dharmadhara’s experiment to form a utopian community based on trust and equality ends disastrously after inviting violent backlash from the orthodoxy. The commune valued dignity and fellowship over dogma. Diverse forms of worship were anathema to the upper castes. There was resistance to the re-division of labour. Not many were prepared to forgo their past occupations and forget their caste identity. It was a community comprising people from diverse backgrounds — Lingayats, Goan Christians, Deccan Muslims, Madigas, Holeyas, Bedas, Kurubas, and Nayakas. From childhood, Dharmadhara felt a sense of guilt due to his privileged life and wondered why many people like him led such a pathetic existence. He found them not impure but poor.</p>.<p>Curiosity drove him to know more about how others lived. He felt his world needed urgent repair. Even years after leading a vagabond’s life, he remains restless. Dharmadhara exhorts villagers to keep the environment clean and imparts lessons to children. His advice to them: question, observe, test and confirm for yourselves. His is a search for a moral self in a fractured world, inspired by the Buddha’s compassion and Ashoka’s renunciation. He believed in the innate goodness of human beings. People trusted him, as he had no airs. For him, the way forward is action born of love and care.</p>.<p>A slice of 18th- and 19th-century Deccan history forms the backdrop of the novel — a multilingual (Kannada, Marathi and Portuguese), caste-infested, faith-dominated milieu marked by daily struggles between ‘devotion and dissent’ and ‘power and compassion’. Readers get an inkling of the tensions that shaped modern Indian society and spiritual thought. There are graphic accounts of people groaning under the oppressive caste system and elaborate rituals of purification. There are tales of people fleeing to the Deccan to escape the Portuguese Inquisition in Goa, with soldiers chasing them.</p>.<p>The novel joins a stream of literature that examines the moral and metaphysical dimensions of humanity. According to the author, The Convert is a philosophical and historical novel through which runs a thread of faith, caste and power. At the core of the novel is the story of identity, faith and how one comes to terms with the past. While memory may be weaponised to settle scores, it can also provide a path to dialogue and reconciliation, enabling a new beginning. The task is not easy. In the context of right-wing efforts to rewrite history, The Convert has added significance. The novel considers conversion not as an escape from one world into another but as a detour taken by fellow travellers. The Convert, originally planned as a biography, took 10 years to complete.</p>.<p>Shankar deftly uses the technique of a story within a story, along with elements of mystery. He faithfully portrays the bygone era. Eerie references to the devastating famine of the period, dubbed the ‘skull famine’ as the countryside was strewn with bones and skulls, point to painstaking research. Christopher’s clashes with the Church expose the divide between Christ’s teachings and the official doctrine, and the unedifying power struggle within. A good read for lovers of the historical novel.</p>