BOOK REVIEW: The Best Stories of Our Times; A kaleidoscopic view of a land

Rehmat Merchant

The Telugu short story has been on the side of the people right from the nineteenth century, writes Volga who has edited TELUGU: The Best Stories of Our Time. She has selected 26 stories that have been translated by Alladi Uma and M Sridhar. Volga, a forerunner in feminist literature, and credited with bringing a literary-political influence in Telugu liteature, is the editor. In the preface to the book she writes: “The Telugu short story will remain a truthful representation of the living conditions and distress of the time.”

The Telugu short story has always spoken for the marginalised from the nineteenth century – walking the path of “reformation, progress and revolution.” From the 1990s it took upon the task of representing identity politics.

The stories are peopled by characters who are a minority: by caste, religion, gender, or finances. In the 90s the united AP like many states witnessed economic liberalisation, religious politics, technological advancements, caste violence and identity movements. This backdrop is actively woven in all the stories.

The protagonists are not passive; they are working towards changing their lot. But dealing with the stack of mountainous prejudices, visceral hatred and vindictive propaganda is sapping. Society is the big villain here who doesnt let them forget their identity or allow them to live with it. Though liberalisation pushed people towards cities that helped reduce caste discrimation considerably but it diminised human bonds. Migrants were cut off from familiar faces and routines, and pushed in the urban jungle.

Though Get Published by Mohammed Khadeer Babu, is based in the city, it shows how prejudices take root everywhere. The protagonist is a Muslim journalist who wants to tell the story of a poor Muslim family that was once leading a decent life but lost it all because of their identity. Life changed made them beggars just because of their religion.

The father of the family is arrested because he happens to be a Muslim with other Muslims on the way to a dargah. The result is a disabled man, a deranged son and a woman reduced to begging. The journalist, who is telling their story, is relatively privileged. But as the story progresses he becomes aware of his shared identity and feels more vulnerable. “In this country, not everyone is able to reveal their identity. But they cannot live without having an identity either,” observes the narrator. This could happen to any Muslim, not because of what they do but who they are.

In the Dog Father by Satish Chander, the protagonist sees himself and his dog not just as sharing the same name but a similar life. Raju, the dog, is not of a highbreed and Raju, the boy, too is not considered to be of an acceptable caste. He is rejected by his love because of his caste. And later he rejects his dog because its wound stinks. The dog’s wound is a physical affliction whereas his identity is a social wound that makes both of them not acceptable to the people who they love.

But though on the surface it looks that caste is restrictive and suffocating only for the lower strata, perhaps it’s not so. As the story unfolds we see the price that the high caste has to pay if they violate the code. But can the players create a separate world if they are willing to give up their identities?

Bottu Feasts by Manasa Yendluri is about a well-off Christian Dalit woman, who is privialleged enough to be tolerated by the high caste teaching faculty at her school. But she still remains an outsider for both Hindus and Christians because of her caste. Her older colleague Lena (a fellow Christian belonging to a higher caste) keeps to herself because she knows that at the end of the day for them she is a Christion.

But the younger Christian woman who is not church-going, sings devotional classical songs, sees Christmas as a social thing, gets superficially assimilated with the high caste teachers. Though she doesn’t realise that. All that she can’t understand because she can’t see things from the prism of those who are selective in their inclusion (applying bottu) and exclusion (special prayer functions).

In the end she is alone because she can’t socialise with anyone. The woman of her caste is the cleaning lady at the school. Her co-religionist Lena doesn’t want to get familiar with her because of her low cast. And, of course, the Brahmin teachers don’t want an association with her outside of the staff room. But the story is positive, as it’s about embracing our identity.

The unifying theme of all these stories of disinclusion is that they don’t end on the note of a broken spirit. The characters find a way to go around the rejection by continuing with their struggle. The mood of the stories may be dismal an