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13 - 19 June 2002 Issue No.590 Books |
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From Cairo to Delhi
Circles of Silence: An Indian Love Story, Preeti Singh, London: Hodder and Stoughton, 2001.pp503
In this novel we have another young writer joining the tide of Indian authors who use English as the medium for their writings. There was, at one time, quite a controversy about the name to give to this kind of writing. Many appellations have been used: "Anglo-Indian," "Indian writing in English," "Indo-English Literature," but finally there was a general agreement to adopt the term "Indian English Literature".The critic M. K. Naik claims that this literature is "an interesting by-product of an eventful encounter in the late 18th century between a vigorous and enterprising Britain and a stagnant and chaotic India". As a result of this encounter, "India, a withered trunk, suddenly shot out with foreign foliage". What, then, is Indian English Literature? "Strictly speaking," Naik continues, "it may be defined as literature written originally in English by authors Indian by birth, ancestry or nationality." This definition applies to writers who have achieved world fame, like Mulk Raj Anand, R.K. Narayan and Raja Rao.
However, Indian English literature has been strongly criticised by both Indian and British critics. Its practitioners have been accused of writing with an eye on the foreign reader and hence trying to provide stereotypes of both Indian characters and situations. Some critics have gone so far as to predict the impending demise of this kind of writing, like a passing fashion. But it seems that literary forecasts are no more reliable than weather forecasts, and, far from vanishing, Indian English Literature has established itself as a literature in its own right, with some of its writers winning the prestigious British Booker Prize.
Now this line of writers has been joined by a newcomer, Preeti Singh, who worked with us at Al-Ahram Weekly on the culture pages for some years. In fact, the seeds of her novel were sown in Egyptian soil, and she often spoke about her first novel. Preeti, however, is not the only Indian writer who has found inspiration in Egypt. Nina Sibal, who was Counsellor Minister at the Indian Embassy, and Amitav Ghosh, who was on a research scholarship in Egypt, also produced works here.
The core of Preeti's novel is a love story, and its action takes place between India and Egypt. It is the story of Ratten, who grew up leading a charmed life, first in Delhi, in the palatial Hanzkhas surrounded by his affluent family, and then in Boston where he studied at university, before finally settling down in a good job in Cairo. He falls in love with Nalini, the daughter of the Indian Ambassador to Egypt. After the death of her mother, and having completed her university studies, she has accepted the diplomatic duties that her father's post carries, finding herself installed in Bharat Bhavan, the Indian Ambassador's residence, and organising and supervising the activities and events that behove an ambassador.
Nalini is Preeti's mouthpiece, who was herself married to the Counsellor Minister of the Indian Embassy in Cairo, though not the ambassador's daughter through whom she looks at Egypt. The novel is a happy mixture of autobiography, fiction and travel, and it reminds me of Somerset Maugham's short stories and novels, for, as in his works, there are characters here from a variety of backgrounds. Preeti's protagonists are Indian, with an Egyptian backdrop, and there are a few Egyptians thrown in for good measure, such as Gamal, her colleague at Al-Ahram Weekly.
The action of the novel alternates between Delhi and Cairo, with chapters bearing titles like Nalini on the Nile, Panna the Fakir Revisited, Afloat in a Felucca, The Festival of Light, and so on. In a way, it is the tale of two cities, or countries, with the characteristics of each minutely delineated. Thus, for example, there are lively descriptions of Karnak and the Valley of the Kings: "The grandiose columns, the giant figures of the king and his courtiers, the row of stone lions perfectly carved, the great spread of the whole complex, and the architectural perfection of the dimensions were remarkable to behold."
Besides travelogue, there are also descriptions of actual events that took place in 1991 and 1992 when the author lived in Cairo. We read about the bomb that exploded in a two-storey restaurant in Tahrir Square, for example. Nalini and Ratten were there getting ready for a meal when "there was a loud booming sound, followed by the aftershocks of successive smaller ones." There are also descriptions of the celebrations held to mark Indian Independence Day, of dinners given by Nalini's father for high-ranking Egyptian officials to discuss Indo- Egyptian cooperation, of the Gezira Club, haunt of ambassadors and diplomats, of meals at Felfela and of felucca trips.
The novel also gives insights into Indian customs and traditions, for example of the Diwali, the festival of light, and of superstitions, such as when Ratten is taken as a child to a fakir's ashram to hear his horoscope. There are vivid descriptions of rituals carried out along a river that marks the border of Rajasthan and Gujurat; wide and shallow, "men in their lungis, or loincloths, and women bare from their waists upwards" dip themselves into the river. A priest intones, "Oh God, destroyer of evil spirits, help us rid ourselves of their power. It will be good for us. It will be good for the village."
Here Ratten meets his mother, Pammi, again after a period of separation, her having left her palace in Delhi to live in an ashram. She is seeking atonement after committing the unthinkable -- sleeping with her servant who called her memsaheb. The novel shows how this search for atonement reflects the reality of a caste system that is deeply rooted in Indian society, her act necessitating Pammi's severe self-punishment. When her son visits her and tries to persuade her to go home she refuses, and when he asks how long she will stay she replies, "a few days, a week, a month. Maybe forever."
A critic of Indian English literature has written that "Indian English, being a lingua franca, lacks the fineness of nuance that makes literature possible." Preeti Singh's beautiful, pure and perfect English in this novel is alone enough to make this statement a travesty.
Reviewed by Mursi Saad El-Din
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