Dahanu Road: A novel – Anosh Irani
“The only statement of revolt the poor could make was to put an end to their own misery. It happened all the time—men lay themselves on train tracks, hanged themselves from trees, consumed rat poison, and women set their kerosene-soaked bodies alight in front of their husbands. These were blazing ends to insignificant journeys. But in all this, there was always one man who, in that final gush of blood, in that final breaking of neck and bone, set things in motion.”
Zairos Irani, a young man of inherited leisure, is meandering through his family’s lush chickoo orchards near Mumbai when he comes across a distressing sight: Hanging from one of the fruit trees is the lifeless body of Ganpat, a worker from the indigenous Warli tribe. Ganpat’s ancestors once owned the land, before his father’s alcohol debts caused the deed to be transferred to Zairos’s grandfather Shapur. The two family destinies have been entwined ever since, ancient grudges once again awoken by Ganpat’s final desperate act.
Zairos feels obliged to notify Ganpat’s family before the authorities come to ask needless questions and extract bribes. A tractor bearing Ganpat’s sister and anguished daughter Kusum soon trundles into the orchard, and when Kusum alights, Zairos’s curiosity is piqued. As a landowner, he knows that he is well above her station, and yet her dignity and beauty lead him to cast aside taboos and risk the wagging tongues of neighbourhood gossips. Though wary at first, the grieving Kusum comes to return his affection, asking only that he assist her in achieving what her dead father could not- by putting an end to the violence she has endured at the hands of a drunken husband.
Zairos cannot get advice from his father Aspi, whose clownishness masks thinly-veiled nihilism. Nor can he confide in his beloved grandfather Shapur, whose massive hands planted the chickoo trees that he adores as much as his own sons. Shapur built the family empire from a desperate start as an orphaned refugee, and any act that might threaten the delicate legacy spawned by his sacrifices would only provoke rage in the old man, who increasingly dwells in memories. So Zairos whiles away his time at Anna’s, the local haunt for the male leisure class, dreaming of a future with Kusum. There, with the support of some equally underemployed sidekicks, Zairos hatches a scheme to scare Kusum’s husband into releasing her, while keeping his own moral integrity intact. But alas, Zairos’s scheme will not unfold as planned, and along the way, he will unwittingly expose family secrets that may well be better left buried…
India, 1995. Charlotte Bridgwater lives with her father, a former British general, and just one loyal servant in a stately old mansion in the town of Rampur. Money is scarce and the once grand estate is crumbling.
In Delhi, a small baby lies alone and abandoned. The product of IVF and surrogacy, she had been so coveted – until she was born with a fatal illness. No one knows how the infection could have been transferred to the child, but one thing is certain: no one wants her now.
Saradindu Bandyopadyay’s immortal detective Byomkesh Bakshi has enjoyed immense popularity for several decades. From being a household name in the Calcutta of 1930s, when he first created, to a popular face on TV in the 1990s, Byomkesh along with his friend-cum-foil Ajit is perhaps the best-loved of India’s literary detectives. This collection brings together three of his classic whodunnits.
Today is Deepavali (as it’s called in South India) or Diwali (as it’s called in the north). Since in Mumbai, people generally refer to it as Diwali, that’s what we call it and will continue to call it irrespective of whether I am referring to it being celebrated in the north or south.
In the southern part of India, Diwali is celebrated as the day Lord Krishna killed the demon Narakasura and is called Naraka Chaturdasi. If the day falls on the new moon day or Amavasya, then you have to wake up very early and take a bath before daylight breaks. A special oil is made the previous night with herbs and spices and this is supposed to ward off the effects of winter. This oil is applied by the oldest woman in the family who is available and is done in front of the family altar. Once you bathe and get ready, you pray to the Lord and then to the elders in the family. You then eat the medicinal preparation made which prepares your stomach for the onslaught of food. Then it’s time to feast the yummy goodies you’ve slaved away at. Children and adults also light firecrackers in the early morning dawn to frighten the demons. Here in Singapore, firecrackers, especially the loud ones which make noise are banned, so we used to buy sparklers for the children when they were younger. Now that they are older, we stop at the goodie eating and visiting the temple.
In North India, the day after Naraka Chaturdasi is usually celebrated as Diwali and is the day when Lord Rama reached Ayodhya after fulfiling the promise he made to his stepmother Keykeyi about going on a 14-year exile and in the process, killing the demon king Ravana in what is now present-day Sri Lanka which is celebrated as the festival of Dushhera. On that day, people decorate their homes with diyas and candles just like how the kingdom of Ayodhya had been decorated to welcome their beloved Lord Rama. People perform Laxmi Puja for wealth and also worship Goddess Saraswati for wisdom. Some Indian communities also celebrate their new year during this period and so there’s an additional celebration aspect during the three-four day long festivities.
Some of the other legends from Indian mythology which are associated with this festival include:
