Ameen Merchant’s “The Silent Raga” has obsessed me for the last few days. I normally don’t keep a book pending for long. But with this one, I dint want to complete the reading and close the chapter once for all. There was something to look forward to when the book was half-way through. Thoroughly gripping and mesmerizing.
This is yet another woman-centered book like Sudha Murthy’s and other inspirational writers’. But the difference is in the portrayal. Women’s plight, dilemma and obligations in a typical Indian, rather south Indian setting though dresses the main theme of the novel, the composure and patience that are highlights of an Indian woman are the highlights of the novel too.
The book is loaded with the lives of orthodox families of Tamil Brahmin community layered with details to the extent of prints on a saree, smell of the kitchen, incense of the flowers and everything that’s normally unfelt and unheard. The lady of the story – Janaki’s unhurried posture and self control despite the unhealthy environment around her is the pick of the story. Journey of a Brahmin girl from a teenager to a lady of a Muslim actor is narrated through words – each of it selected with care and appropriate tone. Janaki’s divine passion for music, Zubeida’s(first wife of the muslim actor) determination to live life in spite of her disability, Gayathri chitti’s eczemic characterization, Mallikka’s (Janaki’s younger sister) unrealistic hope of her sister always being there with her to take care, a father bound by social obligations – a no good moral-support for the family are the attention-grabbers.
Janaki’s muslim husband Asgar is not dealt with as much as his name probes in. The reader never gets a clear sense of Janaki’s emotional relationship with Asgar - the man for whom she embraced all cultural taboos.
It is a worthy goal that the author has achieved – of narrating the often unspoken yet common suffering of Indian women.
My inspiration to pick the book came from the very name. As a raga, the story unfolds slowly, picks up pace and ends leaving behind a mind that’s peace-filled. It’s not the words but the composure of silence that remains even after the story is done-with.
