08 February 2015




19   India – The dark holds no terrors – Shashi Deshpande – January 2015 (Score 7.43)

Sarita (Saru), a doctor, has gone back to visit her father after finding out, from an acquaintance, that her mother has died. Her mother cut Saru out of her life at the time of Saru’s marriage to Manohar, a man of “lower” caste.

Manohar has been treating Saru brutally after years of a seemingly idyllic life together. They have two children. Saru has recurring nightmares in which she suffers her husband’s brutality every nights, but is she dreaming?

The brutality started when it became clear that Saru was becoming more successful in her career, and more popular in general, than was Manohar the poet and lecturer. His revenge was to force himself on her, brutally, every night, with no remnant of the tenderness he used to show.
However, he seems to behave perfectly normally with her during waking hours. The contrast is driving her to distraction
There are many flashbacks to Saru’s childhood and youth. When Saru began to grow up and her periods started, she was put into another room, slept on the floor, ate off different plates. She was considered to be polluted in some way. It is incredible how these ancient prejudices and beliefs have survived into the present day. How did they start in the first place, when this must have been part of a woman’s life since the first descent from the trees?

When she gets to her old home she finds that her father has taken in a lodger, mostly for company. Madhav is a young man studying to become an accountant. He plays a part in the story.
There is a fascinating description on page 101 of an incident in a temple of the goddess Devi when Saru was a girl accompanied by her mother. A woman was performing a ritual anointment of the Devi’s forehead with “kumkum” (also used for applying caste marks) when she dropped the tray. Her reaction, and that of the other women in the temple, was incredible. You have to read this yourself. I don’t intend to spoil it for you.

Her reminiscences of her youth and childhood, as well as her life with Manu after marriage, when her children are growing up, are interesting. They give some insight into the life of ordinary educated Marathi of her time.
A key part of the story is the mystery of the death by drowning of Saru’s younger brother Dhruva when they were young children. Saru’s mother blamed Saru for the death and, in her grief, said things she should not have said. These things were almost forced out of her mother by the male orientated culture in which they live.

As a doctor, Saru eventually concludes that her husband’s so different treatment of her at night is caused by his suffering from something called “Jekyll and Hyde Syndrome”. She decides that he genuinely is not aware off his split personality, and that he really does not remember any of the incidents once he wakes.
Eventually she receives a letter from her son, telling her that his father is travelling to see his wife, and to take her home. Saru thinks it is despicable to use the child that way and instructs her father and Madhav not to let Manu in. They then realise that the letter has been delayed and that Manu would have been on the train which they heard arriving in the local station a short time before.

There is a knock at the door. No-one answers. There is another louder, much more insistent and panicky knock, and crying. Saru opens the door to find a child from along the street wanting the doctor to come because his mother is having fits.

Saru grabs her medicine bag, shouts at her father to let Manu in, and rushes off with the child to try to save his mother.

This is a wonderful story, with much internalisation of Saru’s thoughts on all of her problems, and of her attempts to resolve them. I scored it at 8.5.