The Sari Shop set in the little city of Amritsar captures
evocatively, the social atmosphere of small-town India. Her narrative
encapsulates the spirit of the sari-shop environment with its spirited, intimate,
interaction between shop personnel and regular patrons. In the background, the
rustling silk, soft cotton and shiny synthetic saris reach out to us so
realistically that we long to hold and caress them in our hands. Apart from
that, the unplumbed pathos of Ramchand, an assistant in Sevak Sari Shop, whose
world revolves around selling saris to the women customers, deadens our heart
with sorrow. Ramchand's life and his isolation in the indifferent world are
effortlessly carved out in fine detail. Is it surprising then, we are drawn to
empathize with his empty, monotonous existence?
Ramachand's
loss of his doting parents at a tender age is very moving. He is forced into
menial work by his uncle who grabbed his inheritance. His desire to master
English language is noteworthy, as it is rekindled one day, when he is sent to
display sarees for the trousseau of a wealthy man's daughter. Suddenly, his
life seems to acquire a purpose as he meticulously sets about learning new
English words from "Radiant Essays" and "A Complete Writer"
assisted by an old Oxford English dictionary. As he reads, he seems to grasp
the meaning of his life and the avidity of life around him. It was a sad
moment, when he began to understand the pathos of the underdog and the aggression
of the conqueror; in this case the one on top of the social hierarchy. The
transformation in Ramachand is to make him humane to the hurts of society and
the woes of the secondary sex, women. Kamala, the wife of another sari shop
assistant Chander, inadvertently opens his eyes to the double standards lived
by men in the patriarchal society. At the end of it, Ramachand realizes the
futility of trying to turn the system around and instead, finds comfort in
lapsing into his routine existence. Our journey is outward with Ramachand, into
the stagnant, oppressive social system and inward with him into his
suffocating, futile ruminations. I could only throw up my hands in utter
despair, at the futility of it all, when nothing materialized. I wished that
Ramachand would have persevered.
The characterization in the novel I feel is pertinent to the trivial rivalries that seethe beneath the surface of life lived by petty traders and class-conscious, middle-class wives. The wives of rich industrialists with their empty lives and the educated class with their snobbish intellectualism, is skillfully caricatured. The lives of the lower middle class, their resigned acceptance of poverty, their escape into filmi world and their aspirations to higher things through English speaking jobs, brought a lump into my throat due to the streak of desperation that intertwined hope.
I
found wonderfully comical moments in the novel as, when Hari, another shop
assistant imitates the portly shop owner or when Ramachand sneaks into the
wealthy wedding reception to taste the forty desserts set out on the table or
his surprise when he sees all the women customers and the sarees from the shop
on them. The laugh aloud moments are, when I took in the spiteful chatter of
the ladies on a saree buying spree or observe Ramachand's sensual day dreams
revolving around Sudha, the young wife of his landlord or see him ticking off
his shop manager in a perfectly structured droll English or view his attempts
to combat his smelly feet with lemon juice. It is laughter mixed with pathos,
when I glimpsed Rina interviewing Ramachand to exploit his naïve, comical
appeal in her debut novel, while Ramachand imagines himself as suave with Rina.
Is
it not utter duplicity of the world where law exists for the rich while the
poor timidly accept injustice? The brutal rape of Kamala, the involvement of
the rich Guptas, the apathy of the educated, articulate and empowered Mrs
Sachadeva, the police who pocket the bribe and punish the victim, the anguish
of Ramachand who is just a bystander, left a lasting impression on me.
Ramachand's new found perception, battles to bring some order into the skewered
justice system in the society. His sanity rightfully takes a beating, withdraws
into insanity with the intensity of its demoralization and returns to the
present deceitful world to maintain its status quo. I honestly salute
Ramachand's efforts, even though brief, to challenge the social hierarchical
system of rich and poor.
Ramachand's
attempts to imbue his life with some imagination and beauty by buying English
books and trying to educate himself is very moving. At that particular moment,
I recalled the mania of the Indians for the English language and their use of
it as a benchmark to judge a person's knowledge and place in community. I
believe, the novel is very perceptive in giving a social commentary of the
society which reflects the existentialist torment of every human creature. At
the same time, there is a fine balance between reality and expectation, as the
incongruities of life is deftly woven into the story,
I
found the novel darkly humorous as it effortlessly drew me into the lives of
the characters as they go about their business of living. I feel, without our
volition we can empathize with Kamala or Ramachand or sneer at the hollowness
of Rina or Mrs Sachadeva. It may not possible for us to break out of our
boundaries or change the world around us but sometimes it is necessary to just
try and understand ourselves and our life. The novel definitely does that.
Kudos to Bajwa for her sensitive effort...
http://whoisthiswhoiscoming.blogspot.in/2012/09/the-sari-shop-by-rupa-bajwa.html
http://whoisthiswhoiscoming.blogspot.in/2012/09/the-sari-shop-by-rupa-bajwa.html
Not read the book but this book review makes me anxious to get a copy ASAP!
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