Of light, darkness and missing women

Do we simply see or can we see? Most of us are content with simply seeing. But, what good is a world full of existentially blind people? It is into this world full of injustice, love, longing, desire and blindness, Malayalam author KR Meera sets her latest novel The Unseeing Idol of Light. The protagonist Prakash’s pregnant wife Deepti goes missing during a train journey and as a result of this trauma, Prakash loses his sight. Prakash’s quest to find her forms the narrative of the rest of the book and assisting him in this journey is his friend Shyamprasad. While on this journey, Prakash meets Rajani, but cannot give himself to her fully, who doesn’t want anything lesser.

Losing his sight doesn’t deter Prakash, who goes on to pose the question, “Aren’t we all blind in some way or the other?” and comment “sight is nothing but half-light and half imagination...You see what you wish to see. And you avoid what you don’t want to confront.”

“I felt intrigued how love and sight are related to each other. The more I thought about it, I realised that sight is a metaphor and it is related to justice and in turn, to the notion of power too,” says Kottayam-resident Meera, whose earlier novel Hangwoman (Aarachar) won her the National Sahitya Akademi Award in 2015.

It’s not just physical and moral blindness that Meera, a former journalist with Malayala Manorama, deals with in this novel, which is replete with the imagery of violence against women and their unjust treatment, loss, rage, friendships and a state of helplessness, leading many characters to take their own lives.

For Meera, this book points towards an important time in her life as she had to resign from her job when this novel was about to be published in 2007 as the newspaper she was working with imposed a new rule prohibiting creative writing in other publications.

Titled Netronmeelanam in Malayalam and translated poetically into English by Ministhy S, The Unseeing Idol of Light is both a fable and a tragedy. Meera’s genius lies in the ability to make each of her readers see some of the truth in their lives in the broken lives of her characters.

Excerpts from an interview:

How and why did you choose the title ‘The unseeing idol of light’?

The original title Netronmeelanam is a tantric term to denote the eye-opening ritual of a god’s statue, only after which it becomes an idol fit for worship. Netra means eye and Unmeelanam means opening. I was searching for a title for the book and then a news item on the consecration of an idol in a temple came to my notice in which this ritual was mentioned. It didn’t take me a second to fix my book’s title. The ritual means that the god has to see the worshippers, and only then can she/he become a god. I still believe that there is no other word which would be more apt than Netronmeelanam. But there was no one word to bring out the meaning in English. So, we thought of a title which would bring the meaning rather than literal translation. The idol is just a step away from being fit for worship because it hasn’t seen the worshippers yet. Considering the novel is trying to talk about the layers of gender which are problematic, the philosophy of love and the notions of power and justice, I think the title is apt and does justice.

This is a tale of a wife’s disappearance and a husband’s grief. Why did you choose you write on this theme?

Netronmeelanam was written at a time when I was confused of the meaning of love, my relationships, the attitude to the world outside and my rank in the power structure controlling that world. But there was a particular incident which provided the spark for the work. My favourite teacher from school—Ramachandran Unnithan—had lost his sight after the sudden demise of his wife. On that fateful day, they both came back from a wedding and entered the bedroom together, talking all the while. He went to the wash room and when he came out she was seen lying dead. He told me that everything was blurred from then on. After the seventh day ritual, when he went out of the house on his scooter he started seeing things enlarged. And the road suddenly ended with a black wall in front. He told me that it was then he realised his optical nerves were damaged.

I felt intrigued how love and sight are related to each other. The more I thought on it, I realised that sight is a metaphor and it is related to justice and in turn, to the notion of power too.

A complicated and a toxic kind of love seem to be a running theme in the relationships in your novels. Is there a reason?

Maybe I have been intoxicated with so much toxic love as a result of which, I don’t get any ‘kick’ from simple and easy love! Also, while writing, only toxic love can be the metaphor to describe the world we are living in.

Why do you write the stories you write?

They are all mere travelogues of an injured, disillusioned and lonely soul, eternally searching for someone or something to redeem it. I write those stories just because the injured soul needs to scream, to swear, to protest, to take revenge and sometimes rewrite the whole journey, just to ease the pain. I feel empowered while I write. I enjoy power. The real power of the almighty.

Your books are works of fiction, but they could almost be true?

They are all true, because while writing I experience them. Fiction is the ultimate truth, but you will have to wait a life time to realise how true it is.

You juxtapose light and darkness through blindness and light of a woman. Did you intentionally symbolise the woman as light?

A. In this story, light itself is the symbol, and it is the symbol of love, justice and fulfillment. Men and women are in search of it. The name Jayaprakash can be translated as light of victory or hail light. Deepti and Jyoti mean light. Rajani means night, which can be too dark on new moon days or bright on full moon. Shyamaprasad roughly means a black gift. So, in this story not all women are symbols of light and not all men are symbols of darkness.

Hangwoman was not an easy book to write. Has it been difficult to write after that book?

There has been always this fear that it would be impossible to write as well as the previous book. But when I sit down to write, I get carried away. It is Sooryane Aninja Oru Sthree (A Woman Clothed in Sun) that I wrote after Aaraachaar (Hangwoman). I wrote Sooryane Aninja Oru Sthree just for my own sake, to escape from the trauma of Aaraachaar. I didn’t know any other way to battle the severe depression engulfing me after writing Aaraachaar. Sooryane Aninja Oru Sthree was serialised in Vanitha, a fortnightly magazine, a woman’s magazine and I was too scared to read it again fearing it would be disappointing. Also, after Aaraachaar, I didn’t want to publish an ordinary book. I wanted something quite unique, like a book with several volumes. But from the day, the serialised novel started to come out, I started to get calls and messages from readers, both men and women, saying that they loved it. And from the day it ended, there were many queries from readers asking if the serialised novel was available in a book format. Even DC Books, my publishing house, got many letters and emails enquiring about the book. When AV Sreekumar, my publication manager at DC Books forwarded such a mail to me from a reader as old as my father, I decided to publish it, because, if even after so many years, the readers are eager to read a novel a second time, the author has no right to hold it back.

Every book takes a bit out of the writer. What was the emotional toll this book took on you considering it has themes of violence against women, rape and emotional trauma of women and men.

I found out how poignant Netronmeelanam was, only recently when I read it again to edit the translation, after more than a decade. I got carried away reading it because after so many years, I could read it quite detached and dispassionate as if it were a book written by another author. After writing Aaraachaar, I was in deep depression which made me feel 10 years older, 20 years weaker. but Netronmeelanam was written quite smoothly, may be because I was healthier and younger then.

How challenging is it to be a successful woman writer in Kerala?

The primary challenge for any successful woman in Kerala is to deal with the world which will constantly remind that you are a woman and that you are ‘just a woman’ whatever your accomplishments are. The real challenge is to remain a ‘just’ woman, however unjustly you are treated.