Midnight's Children

Midnight's Children (1981) by Salman Rushdie


There are books and then there are Masterpieces, like Midnight’s Children. The thing that attracted me most was the unusual name, which I couldn’t comprehend till I read the novel, Children who were born on Midnight. But the important thing is “Which” particular Midnight.

There comes the answer: “14th August, 1947”, when the “Tryst with Destiny” was delivered.

The thing which I like about the work of Salman Rushdie is the amount of research he does, for his work. There are other writers like Robin Cook, who do such extensive research for their work, but the way Rushdie mixes the Facts with the Fiction, is amazing. Best thing about the book is the way in which Mr. Rushdie has fictionalized these events. The book describes the political/social condition of India, Pakistan and East-Pakistan (Bangladesh) from 1915 till 81. Various events which changed the Destiny of Sub-continent, primarily related to India.

Our hero, Salim Sinai, was born on the stroke of Midnight on 14th August 1947, when Partition of Hindustan into India & Pakistan took place. He shares his birthday with 581 more children, the MCC club, (582 is the no of Members of Parliament in India). Prior to this there is a mention of his Grandfather, Adam Aziz, who was witness to Massacre at Jalianwala bag (1919).

Then there is the story of his parents, how they got married and then the wrath of Riots after the partition and how his father paid the communal parties, (obviously Hindu fanatics) to save his business. Then the story shifts to Bombay and we come to know about “Partition of the state of Bombay” and how Marathis and Gujaratis fought for that forsaken Island.

Meanwhile our hero, Salim faces harsh realities and complexities of his family life (His Father Ahmed and his secretaries plus his obsession with Djins, his Mother Amina and her relations with her ex-husband Nasir, plus his Sister Brass Monkey) and their families (His Grandmother whatitsname Naseem, His no-longer-successful uncle Hanif and His promiscuous wife) plus his neighborhood (All the families of Methwold state).

When Salim was still in Bombay, India-China war of 1961 started (an un-biased version) and then there are stories, Battle of Thag-la-ridge and how Indian government first started the war, and then tried to save their face by launching the 'Ornaments for Armaments' campaign. Then Salim’s Aaya reveals to Ahmed and Amina that Salim is not their child, and she had exchanged him with Williy-Winkie’s child.

So here the story takes a new turn and Salim went to Pakistan and then there he becomes the witness of Military coupe by Gen. Ayub Khan. Few years after this the Indo-Pak war broke out. But our hero is not bothered with all this and he is fighting his own war against feelings of Incest. When the war is over so is Salim’s family. His Mother and Father were killed and his sister left him forever and he wakes up in East-Pakistan (Bangladesh).

Here he becomes witness to the brutalities of Gen Tikka Khan and Yahya Khan and how these Generals arrested Mujib-ur-Rehman, the founder of Bangladesh. After India intervened and Bangladesh became free, on 25th March 1971, with the efforts of Sam Manekshaw. So Salim return to his Mother-land.

In Delhi he got married to Parvati-the-witch, another member of MCC. Here he becomes witness to the Emergency and hence to all the Good/Bad effects of Emergency applied by Indira Gandhi (The Widow) and her labia-lip son Sanjay Gandhi. And finally returns to Bombay and the story ends.

I have tried to mention whatever I could recall, and there are lots of things which I have missed out.

There are few Historical characters and facts, which I really want to verify:

• Role of Krishna Menon in Indo-China war of ‘61
• Idiosyncrasies of Mountbatten’s
• Sam Manekshaw’s role in ’65 and 71’ war
• Gen Yahya khan and Tikka Khan’s
• Ayub khan and Military coupe in Pakistan
• Mujib-ur-Rehman and his conflicts with Julfikar Ali Bhutto and Ayub Khan
  

Other than these historical events, there are amazing descriptions of Kashmir, Bombay, Karachi, Delhi and Sundarbans.


I was really engrossed while reading such vivid descriptions of life, in almost every form you can think of. Please do read this amazing piece of Literature, as I have given you enough reasons for this.

Extracts from the book:

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In St Thomas's Cathedral, Miss Mary Pereira is learning about the colour of God.

'Blue,' the young priest said earnestly. 'All available evidence, my daughter, suggests that Our Lord Christ Jesus was the most beauteous crystal shade of pale sky blue.'

The little woman behind the wooden latticed window of the confessional fell silent for a moment. An anxious, cogitating silence. Then: 'But how, Father? People are not blue. No people are blue in the whole big world!'

Bewilderment of little woman, matched by perplexity of the priest ... because this is not how she's supposed to react. The Bishop had said, 'Problems with recent converts ... when they ask about color they're almost always that ... important to build bridges, my son. Remember,' thus spoke the Bishop, 'God is love; and the Hindu love-god, Krishna, is always depicted with blue skin. Tell them blue; it will be a sort of bridge between the faiths; gently does it, you follow; and besides blue is a neutral sort of colour, avoids the usual Color problems, gets you away from black and white:

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Reality is a question of perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems - but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems more and more incredible.

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In my India, Gandhi will continue to die at the wrong time.

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Most of what matters in your life takes place in your absence.

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I no longer want to be anything except what who I am. Who what am I? My answer: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I've gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each 'I', every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you'll have to swallow a world.


--> Mishra

Ladies Coupe- Anita Nair.

Oh Boy.....the Title of the book...does give a sneak preview of what it must be all about. Yes..its a story of 6 women who by circumstances are travelling in a ladies compartment. All 6 strangers to each other,leave after telling their life's turning point. The main lead of the story is Akhila whose name is Akhilendeshwari. She is the one who listens to all other women...and tries to apply their views and justifications in comparison to her own life.
The start of the story is a little slow, as it took time for me to gain interest and not keep the book down. But As soon as all the ladies started speaking up .....my interest rose until I was done with the whole book.

Akhila was from a humble family where she grew up amongst her parents and other siblings. She being the eldest, she was most looked upon. Her father was a humble man who did not get into office politics and diplomacy, hence did not grow in terms of financial standing perhaps. But, that is why Akhila Appa could sleep peacefully even on cemented floors, instead of other beureacrats who were wolfish in their wants in office and also had cozy mattresses to throw their weights on!Appa's death was what changed Akhila's life and that is when she somehow lost her identity as a woman and started living as a daughter, sister, colleaugue and an aunt later on. She started working in an income tax office. Her siblings studied and got married at the age they were suppose to. But Akhila's mother never bothered to mother her like her other daughter. Akhila too, in her daily quest to earn a living and forgot her womanhood, and just lived until she made friendship with her herself and neverending wants. In the compartment she heard stories on 4 different women of a variety of demographic and social backgrounds. Each one of them told their stories to Akhila to help her decide if a woman has the right and courage to live alone...or Not!

Jaanki- A typical house wife, who is caught between her husband and son's clashes. She takes her husband's side most of the time.

Sheela- A fourteen year old girl who does not like her father's way of approaching towards problems. At this tender age, she understood many things whereas..people around her never knew that.

Margaret- A lady who tells her story to make believe that it is not so..that women do need men to live their lives. She was married to somebody she chose and still their marriage did not work. Infact when her marriage did not work, people thought they were doing good, and when Margaret mended things her way....it went even smoother. She was loved by her husband just as an object to fulfill his desires. That I say, as he made her go through an abortion just to maintain her bodily beauty and physique. Until Margaret knew his intentions, it was too late...He had his own attitude, which he threw not only on her but others too. In her own way, she planned a way to make Ebby (her hubby).....so dependent on her..that he would need her in every step he takes. She was successful enough!(Read the book ..how ambushed Ebby:-))

Prabhadevi (PD)- This lady was a typical house wife married to a man to later on settles abroad. She tells Akhila how she got fascinated with the western culture where a woman was as liberated as a man. chaah"PD chaahti new york ki mahilaaon ki tarah vo bhi baal jhulaati huyi, aatmavishwaas se chale. Jaise unhein pata ho ki unehin kahaan jaaana hai aur vahaaan pahunche par unhein karna kya hai. Unke jeevan par unka adhikaar hai, kisi aur ka nahin. Aisi chaal...aisa aatmavishwaas, zindagi aur khubsoorti ka aisa gathjod, PD yehi ti apne liye".After coming to India she did live her life like the para above. But soon due to conservative attitudes in India, she came to GRAHINI Prabhadevi. And that too she enjoyed. Many incidence in her westernised way of living shows that her husband too appreciated her western approach towards life. Living like the intended way, she pondered on a wish of learning to swim. And decided anyhow she will accomplish it. And to my amaze..she does!......In this process she rediscovers her old carefree self who does not bother of what people will say. She is happy to meet herself again...:-)

Maarikolantu/Mary- 31 year old single parent, speaks about her journey from an innocent girl to a woman where she faces many hurdles and has been a rape victim. She is good friends with Sujata Akkaa.. a lady who is unhappy with her husbands behavior. Mary and Sujaata Akkaa....while sharing each others suffering....get close enough to fulfill each others physical needs which were left unsatisfied by their better halfs

.....Lastly ....Akhilaa....in the novel...she does have a pink state of emotions. She falls in love with a boy, Hari, who is as old as her youngest brother. They both do take their time together and enjoy the time that they had alone. I felt happy for Akhilaa....that she did find someone who made her feel like a woman and cared for her. But somehow, she thinks she has commited a sin by letting a boy as old as her younger brother enter her emotional and physical state. She maintains a distance from her love and lust of life. Perhaps, Hari got married in the meantime.Again she comes back to her normal routine life where she eats, drinks and breathes just bacause she is the breadwinner to her family.

After hearing the stories of all these women from the train....she goes and stays alone in a hill station....and checks in a hotel. Must be her loneliness or her desire to feel happy and wanted again.....that she starts a relationship again with a stranger who is younger to her. Mere company of that boy and then the extended act of togetherness destresses her. She feels as if she is released from the hands of despair.In the last para of the book..her present mood..strikes a chord...of Hari.....she has a telephone number...which Hari had given her.....calls him up ....Hari picks up the phone....she answers.."Hello I am Akhila....Akhilendeshwari".

I found the book gradually impressive. Keeping in mind the cliche picture..of a woman...who always has to do the right thing...follow the tradition and keep her self limited, this book gives a vent to Akhila even though she is from a rural Sount Indian vertical...and still does things even after beleiving hat she has already commited a sin. She again delves herself into a trap which she thought she has rescused herself from. Unlike other majority women, Akhila did not surpress her desires and feelings...just because she had reached a certain age. Maybe for her....that must be oxygen to live her life alone thereafter. Just hope that Hari is not married when she lastly speaks to him!

Enchantress of Florence: by Salman Rushdie (2008)

Enchantress of Florence:
by Salman Rushdie (2008)

From quite some time I was thinking of reading Salman Rushdie’s work. When I went to the book store, I had Midnight’s Children in mind, and then I picked this one, and couldn’t put it down, till the time i finished it. It’s not just the poetic description of Fatehpur Sikri or Florence or Samarkand, which enthralled me, but the most innovative way of story telling.
After reading “Sacred Games”, I have found very few novels which have such a perfect blend of Love, hate, romance, jealousy and friendship, almost all the shades of life.

I came to know some amazing facts, from Mr. Rushdie’s research,
for example:

Babar was from the family of Timur-e-Lang, who proclaimed that he belongs to the blood-line of Genghis Khan.

Jodhabai was not a real human being, but a piece of Akbar’s imagination.

Akbar’s birthday: 15th Oct (to be verified)

Here are few glimpses of this amazing piece of literature:
The World is a bridge. Pass over it but build no house upon it.
Who hopes for an hour, hopes for eternity.
The world is an hour. What follows is unseen.

This may be the curse of human race. Not that we are so different from one another, but that we are so alike.

The End justifies the means.

Imaginary Queen: Jodha The emperor had put her together; they fumed, by stealing bits of them all. He said she was the daughter of the prince of Jodhpur. She was not! That was another queen, and she was not the daughter, but the sister. The emperor also believed his fictitious beloved was the mother of his firstborn son, his lonf awaited firstborn son, conceived because of the blessing of a saint, Khwaza Salim-Moinuddin Chishti. Buth she was not Salim’s mother, as Prince Salim’s real mother, Rajkumari Hira kunwari, known as Mariam-uz-Zamani, daughter of Raja Bihar Mal of Amer, of the clan Kachhawaha. So: the limitless beauty of the imaginary queen came from one consort, her Hindu religion from another, and her unaccountable wealth from yet a third.

Humayun: Sometimes I wonder that how come we never heard much about Humayun, in comparison to Akbar and Baber. In the book there is a mention of Akbar’s thoughts about his father, which explains everything.

He didn’t like his father. His father had smoked too much of opium, lost his empire and got it back after he pretended to become a Shitte and gave away the Koh-i-noor so that King of Persia would give him an army to fight with.

Birbal ke kis-se: Once Akbar asked his first minister “Birbal, will you answer me one question? We have been waiting a long time to ask it” The first minister of legendary wit and wisdom bowed humbly “As you wish, Jahanpanah” “Well then” Said Akbar “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” Birbal replied at once”The chicken”. Akbar was taken aback “How can you be so sure?” Birbal replied “Huzoor, I only promised to answer only one question.”
A great linguist was waiting at Akbar’s court, a visitor from a distant Western land: a Jesuit priest who could converse and dispute in dozens of languages. He challenged the emperor to discover his native language. While emperor was pondering the riddle, Birbal circled the priest and all of a sudden kicked him violently in the backside. The priest let out a series of oaths – not in Portuguese but in Italian. “You observe, Jahapanah,” said Birbal, “then when it’s time to unleash a few insults, a man will always choose his mother tongue.”

An there many more : but you have to read the novel for this.

-- Mishra