Tuesday, June 12, 2018

The new metaphor of life

Farming is no bed of roses; comprehending weather vagaries, understanding crop rotations, learning cow milking, and dealing with rural eccentricity makes it more challenging than punching keyboards in air-conditioned cubicles.

Midway through this racy narrative, one pauses to wonder what the fuss is all about being a farmer’s wife. In these troubling times when farmers are in the news for all the wrong reasons, no woman in her wildest dream would imagine being a farmer’s wife. Neither did she, a working mother of three hyper-active kids, whose life twirls between the extremes of managing a dreary boss fixated on selling chunking-looking tabs to the kids to a surefire husband in pursuit of creating a steady supply of organic milk from his own farm. Between these extremes lies a life which is as ordinary as it could be, and as exclusive as she has made it look like. 

Part memoir and part fiction, How I became a Farmer’s Wife reflects an unending quest for change from the urbane life laced with repetitive conditioning. Outwardly everything may look calm; it is the turmoil deep down that disturbs life’s rhythms. Metaphorically, it is akin to the tea cup which seems normal on the surface, but for the soggy biscuit bits which lump disgustingly at the bottom to destroy the tea-drinking experience. The comfortable steel-and-chrome high-rises of Gurugram are like the tea cup, with its soggy posse of challenges.  

Within the familiar off-beat tales of techies quitting their high-paying jobs, this story is about the coming to life of Vijay who only a few months ago was slump-shouldered and resigned to his daily routine. That he found a new meaning of life in cows and crops is only part of the breezy narrative, his better half finds comfort in yoga as she unwillingly pursues a corporate career to help him with his dream is the second part. Only one sacrifice in the real world will suffice. 

Running on two parallel tracks, the tongue-in-cheek narrative is about de-stressing life as the leitmotif of urban existence. ‘Why don’t you take up yoga again, you seemed to feel a little better at that time’ is a subtle advice to the lady of the house to keep cool while the budding farmer gains roots in the startling unfamiliar territory. With an incredible knack of story-telling, Yash captures the microcosm of change sweeping the household amidst its daily ordeal. Capturing delicate moments, cheeky encounters, and weird incidents, she lets the writer in her take control of expressing what it takes to be a farmer’s wife. 

With the choice thrust on her, there is little that Yash could do but float in Vijay’s dream world of fresh milk and organic gobhi. The list of items coming out of the leased farm did grow in the dream sequence, but it was only milk which started flowing with some packs of organic veggie tossed in. Getting into farming was an on-the job-exposure that the entire family was forced into. Away from tabs, the weekly visits to the farm were engaging experiences for kids. Choosing nature over technology, the kids learnt to be empathetic towards puppies, cows and the crows. 

Amidst the unending efforts of getting the city out of her, the lingua franca of farming weighed heavy on her and the kids. While jatropha sounded like Jethro Tull to her, the kids took a fancy at savoring some dung cakes. Nonetheless, prodigious vocabulary and distinctive techniques turned farming into an engaging and entertaining vocation for everybody. Despite her initial reservation, Yash soon discovered similarities in tending cows and mending kids. Her sympathy for Vijay translated into an unconditional support to let him be a farmer, and she a farmer’s wife. 

Written with wit, humor, flair and purpose, How I became a Farmer’s Wife chronicles the mid-career crises that most discerning techies often go through. After all, there is a limit to which urbanscape comforts can comfort these upward mobile couples. But farming is no bed of roses either; comprehending weather vagaries, understanding crop rotations, learning cow milking, and dealing with rural eccentricity makes it more challenging than punching keyboards in air-conditioned cubicles. Not only challenging, the transition could fall short of expectations too. 

Towards the latter half of the story, Yash realizes that success is more than just winning the race. Even if the transition didn’t go the full circle, it did create a farmer in Vijay and converted Yash to accept herself as a farmer’s wife. The passion he exuded and the freedom he acquired had lifted the morale of the entire family. As the couple rode out of the farm for the last time, Yash felt an incredible sense of freedom and a distinct sense of connection with the man whose waist she hung on to for dear life. Finally, the parallel tracks had begun to merge. Freedom comes at a price, only if one is willing to pay for. 

How I became a farmer’s wife
by Yashodhara Lal
Harper Collins, New Delhi
Extent: 318, Price: Rs. 250

First published in the Hindustan Times on June 8, 2018

Monday, June 4, 2018

Imagination take wings

Nature, like mother, only generates musical lullaby. Ironically, we the mortals miss the lullaby for the words as we love noise and miss the embedded signal.

In her debut fiction, Kunjana Parashar creates a child’s imagery on nature that is fresh, insightful, reflective and persuasive. Syaahi, meaning ink, is a restless 9-year old girl chided as a slowpoke in class who, like most children, sticks a tongue out towards her uninteresting school building as she heads home for the vacations. Instead she finds solace in nature, amidst the garden trees and creepers, conversing with mute trees about all that she is unable to share with her grandma and the class teacher. In her little mind, trees are great listeners and respond through rustle of leaves or an occasional falling inflorescence. Much to her surprise, the old Rain Tree, under whose feet she had spent countless hours feeling the texture of its roots and bark, seeks to whisper that only she could hear and comprehend.

Lamenting a lack of interest among kids towards nature, the Rain Tree finds a discerning pupil in Syaahi, and exposes the strengths that her grandma and school teacher have not been able to discover. Erasing her of self-doubt, the rooted giant instills a sense of self-belief in the child. Reminding her to nurture good seeds of patience and care, the child is pumped up with irresistible energy to embark on a secret journey to make her vacations ‘green’.  

Kunjana, an English literature graduate, has let her imagination take wings as Syaahi begins to sway on the long aerial roots of the friendly Banyan tree from one part of the city to other. Her worldly encounters on sowing the good seeds are short, but detailed and accurate. Such innocent indulging is the narrative that one finds being flung up high with the child, only to be reminded of the follies that have been collectively committed on the ground. Syaahi’s Green Summer is about appreciating simple pleasures, and generally easing up in a society that encourages materialism and competitiveness.

At this time when people are pulled in separate directions, often directionless to say the least, Syaahi fuels life into the ecosystem with her innocent charm. Showering compassion to birds and beasts, she gets their roaring, squeaking, barking and purring in return as if the garden was but a colorful Indian wedding. The notion of co-existence, of interdependence on each other is reflected as all creatures join the tiny doll in her affable greening initiative. There are hardly any dramatics, just plain narration that catalogues every moment in detail.

In her imagination, the author creates a character in tiny Syaahi who is observant of every little thing around her. No wonder, the garden is like her secret, private den and sanctuary. It is here that she will compose lullaby of musical sounds and musical whistles – no words. She believes that if you use words in a lullaby, you would wake up the one you are trying to put to sleep. I envy Kunjana for the effortless ease with which she conveys a profound message. Nature, like mother, only generates musical lullaby. Ironically, we the mortals miss the lullaby for the words. We love noise, but miss the embedded signal.    

It is book about reconciliation, first with self and then with the surroundings. This could well be the most rudimentary takeaway from Syaahi’s Green Summer, but the central preoccupation in the book is about possibilities, and the conviction of turning simple dreams into transformative realities. This tiny gem of a book doesn’t preach but leaves a message that can inspire every discerning mind into creating his/her own set of actions. Without employing an expansive definition of ecological prudence, Kunjana nonetheless offers a simple but doable body of conscience choice with humane values.

Despite it being written from a child’s perspective, the book is a thoughtful tour in the garden that blows a layer of dust off from our clogged minds. Syaahi’s Green Summer is more for the teachers than children, a must read for evoking all round interest in understanding what we seemingly consider as given. Ignoring the disappearance of tiny sparrow from our daily lives, for instance, carries an ominous sign on our own existence. The author invites her readers to connect with her with cheeky comments and snarky witticisms. She deserves accolades!

Syaahi’s Green Summer
by Kunjana Parashar
APK Publishers, Pune
Extent: 84, Price: Rs 150

First published in monthly Civil Society magazine, issue dated April 2019.