Lunatics in Our Minds
Anjum Hasan is a poet, winner of a few prestigious literary awards and currently she edits ‘Arts Connect’, a journal published by the India Arts Foundation (IFA), Bangalore. ‘Lunatic in My Mind’ is her first novel. I chose to read this book for two reasons; one she edits ‘Arts Connect’ and two, she was born in Shillong. Anjum articulates the story of a few people living in Shillong, the capital of Meghalaya, one of the North Eastern states in India and the stories of these people reveal the underlying tension between Khasis, the natives of Meghalaya and Dkhars, the migrant population in Meghalaya. The Khasi-Dkhar conflict, an issue that divides the state on racial lines, is a volatile political issue, which cannot be solved or all its nuances cannot be expressed within the scope of a novel. Apparently, the author is not here to propose any political or cultural solution. She picks and chooses a few lives, which at times have autobiographical overtones and references and through them, she flags out the real human concerns that often get submerged when a political solution is debated at the negotiation tables.
Firdaus Ansari, an unmarried college lecturer, Aman Moondy, a young IAS aspirant, Ibomcha, a go-getting youth from Manipur who courts Firdaus, Sophie Das, an eight year old young girl who thinks that she is an adopted kid, Mrs&Mr.Das, a couple who live in their personal hells, Bodh, Ibor, two musicians who work with Aman, David Rockwell, a middle aged drunkard, Max, Ibor’s brother with militant Khasi ideology against the Dkhars, Sarak Singh, who sells snacks from his pavement shop, Elsa, an elderly Khasi lady who loves the Das family, Jason, her son, Dr.Takur, a womanizing professor, Angel War, an aggressive young English PhD, Flossie Sharma, Mrs.Nivedita, both fellow teachers of Firdaus, Kong Bina are the major characters in the novel.
While reading, we, the mainlanders feel that we all know them; we have seen those young IAS aspirants, guitar wielding musicians, rebels who do not want to acknowledge ‘India’ as their country, those people who had left Shillong long back thanks to the worsening Khasi-Dkhar conflict and those people who protect their private lives from socio-political and cultural intrusions. We have seen them in mainland universities, in call centers, in beauty parlors, in offices. We have seen them as isolated islands as they look perfect strangers or the ‘others’. And also we have seen those people who look back to Shillong with nostalgia and try to swallow up the disgrace that they faced at the hands of militant Khasis. In popular narratives and cultural outlook, North-Easterners are treated either as side-kicks or just ‘available’ people. However, they assert their ‘difference’ both in physique and attire. ‘We don’t want to integrate because you have already segregated us,’ they seem to say.
‘Lunatic in My Mind’ is a view from the inside that runs against or tangentially to the popular narratives. In this novel we confront a set of people who are not exactly mad, but condemned to live in ‘forced’ madness. Firdaus is a Dkhar. If she wants she could marry Ibomcha and if she wants she can write a thesis on Jane Austin’s novels, obtain a PhD and climb in academic hierarchy. But she refuses to do so only because she is haunted by the circumstances, though the untimely demise of her parents in a train accident does not seem to drive her to madness. She is sane yet not able to come in terms with the things around her. Is it because the Khasi-Dkhar conflict? Apparently not, but when she is connected to other lives, she too becomes a victim of the same conflict. Mr.Das who is dead against giving English tuitions and expects the authorities to give him a professor’s job, is not a lunatic either. His daughter, Sophie at the age of eight cannot expect to have thoughts on existential issues. But she too walks on the thin line between sanity and madness.
Aman Moondy, Ibor and Bodh organize a ‘Happening’ event, where one can sing, recite poems, draw and smoke weed. Perhaps, it is an indication from the author that only through ‘culture sans borders’ (and without legal surveillance) races could be integrated as Aman is a Dkhar, both Ibor and Bodh are Khasis. However, the hatred has gone far and deep that even this ‘Happening’ becomes a point of conflict when a few Khasi youths decide to disrupt the event. Max, the Khasi gang leader is Ibor’s brother and this shows how even within the same Khasi family militant ideology is drafted and denied at the same time. On the other hand, Sarak Singh (who sells food at sarak, which could mean road in Hindi) who sells food both to Khasis and Dkhars become a permanent victim to the Khasi anger. In this imbalanced ideological conflict, even the (food) provider to the general community is not spared.
Aman wants to be an IAS officer. Mr.Nivedita is in love with a Khasi woman, who drowns during a frolicking outing with him. Mrs&Mr.Nivedita are now forced to leave Shillong to Calcutta. Aman, after failing twice in IAS prelim exams, is forced to contemplate on his future in Delhi. None wants to leave Shillong, but personal and social events make them fugitives; fugitives in other places or in their own private lives. Shillong becomes a trap, when looked from the perspective of tribal- non-tribal conflict of North-Eastern states and at the next moment it becomes a liberator of senses, when the characters in the novel decide to leave their ‘sanity’ for ‘lunacy’. Shillong is a context and a character in itself.
May be it is for the first time, a novel that deals with the Khasi-Dkhar issue in a subtle way is published in India (anybody who has read other novels with the same issue in English, they can illuminate this writer). Anjum Hasan uses a narrative technique that is similar to Kurosova’s film narratives. She follows the thread of one life and leaves it in mid way only to pursue another life unraveling at the same time and context. Then these individual stories are weaved together using certain connecting characters like Kong Bina and also some dream sequences. Together they provide the reader with a gripping narrative.
North-East is the next destination of Indian art and culture, I feel. Not because that I am a scholar of the art and culture of that region, but because it is one of the unexplored areas as far as Indian contemporary market is concerned. It is a region where young people express their culture through music and art. They are different because their socio-political outlook is different and that difference is the result of ‘our indifference’ for their art and culture (remember, after Nehru, Indian army, India Festivals and football, and Bhupen Hazarika’s music none has taken up North Easterners to the national and international levels. Indian Idol music contest played a pivotal role to bring back North Eastern contemporary culture before the mainstream eyes. But as we know television programs are forgotten when new programs are inducted and victors and victims of the previous programs are consigned to our oblivion). We refuse to accept anything beyond Santiniketan. Then, of course, we talk a lot about Bangladesh and Pakistan that keep the adrenaline of socialism high.
Central Lalit Kala Akademy has been doing a few projects in North East for the last few years. Khoj Artists International has made its forays into the region recently. Still, I feel, as far as contemporary culture of North East is an unresolved area for the mainlanders. A jump from watercolors to cutting edge media art would be interesting but it would stunt a lot of nuances in the process. It is time for the mainlanders to give attention to North East. Let me tell you shamelessly, there is a potential market out there. Go and grab it. But please don’t import scholars from abroad. Find the young rebellious scholars from there. The rebel sells well; Nike proved it. Naomi Klein proved it. Arundhati Roy proved it. Che Guevara proved it. Fidel Castro, Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Lenin and Mugabe proved it. Bob Marley and Mick Jagger proved it. Go and grab the rebels. Indian art market, you need rebel blood from North East; of Khasis and Dkhars.
Anjum Hasan’s ‘Lunatic in My Mind’ is a context and conflict for me because it gives me a context to talk about a great possibility, which the contemporary art market has not seen yet. I may sound cynical but what to do, it is the truth. But to be truthful to myself, I would say, the potential of the contemporaries of the North East should be showcased and celebrated by the mainstream market of culture. |
