In Bhaichand Patel’s novel, Across the River, two friends navigate the chasm between Old Delhi’s intimacy and the sprawling modernity of a newly emerging metropolis across Yamuna
The river is Yamuna and across the river is a world that is new, still emerging, mostly unfamiliar, considerably alien, has different prejudices and predilections, very different sensitivities and sensibilities, speaks a different language of success and failure, and is considerably different from the old world of old Delhi. However, it is also a world that summons new opportunities with seductive pull and meretricious charm about itself. How this river of opposite banks is navigated — it is this question that Bhaichand Patel places in the foreground of his novel, Across the River (Speaking Tiger).
Dipankar Gupta, the eminent sociologist, is fond of saying that ‘the mark of modernity is when one is indifferent to the primordial identity of one’s neighbour; the mark of true modernity is when one is indifferent to the primordial identity of one’s daughter-in-law or son-in-law.’ Seema and Madhu are two friends from the chaotic but intimate alleys of old Delhi — one Muslim and the other Hindu. When they undertake the journey from the insular cocoons of the old world to the sprawling metropolis across the river, they come face to face with new uncertainties.
Tradition and modernity
Unable to find a job despite being appropriately qualified, Seema hides her religious identity and lands a job in a textiles factory office which — having leveraged the patronage economy of pre-1991 India — does well to leverage competition. Her life on the sly, Mohan, the only son of the conservative Gujarati owner of the factory, falls in love with her. Only expectedly, this is not going to be easy but ultimately true love gets the better of the bitter and divisive barriers erected by religion. Seema’s friend Madhu, the daughter of tradition-clinging Bania family of old Delhi, will end up marrying an army officer of Dogra affiliation but without much opposition.
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At a time when such marriages generate controversies and bitterness, especially on social media, the author seems really keen to provide a functional template: Seema and Mohan have agreed to adhere to their respective faiths....and the kids will be exposed to the traditions and rituals of both Hinduism and Islam and it will be left to them to decide what religion they wish to follow, if any.
The question of identity
While describing the expansion of Delhi, changing dynamics of business, erosion of insularity, the uncertain interaction between tradition and modernity, Patel foregrounds the question of identity. In regard to the obsessive fixation with religious identity to the detriment and exclusion of other identities, Patel sounds almost prescriptive. Madhu and Seema will have to wrestle with identities other than ascriptive.
Kantibhai, the owner of the textiles factory, a conservative Gujarati Hindu keen on maintaining the purity of identity, will have to grapple with a world no longer amenable to his ways of thinking. Javed, Seema’s maternal uncle, will finally reconcile to the marriage of his niece with Mohan after his fulminations and bitterness. Obviously, this transition from the primacy of one identity to the possibility of multiple identities — defining and informing social interaction — is not going to be easy. But it is not impossible either.
Sorority and empathy
Patel seeks to bring out the fundamental differences between the way men and women look at social issues. Kantibhai’s and Javed’s patriarchy — steeped in their religious worldview — sit at odds with the empathy and bonding that develops between Kokilaben and Jabeen, Mohan’s and Seema’s mothers, respectively. For them, the happiness of their children is more important than adherence to barriers that religions create. Similarly, the intimacy of bonding between Madhu and Seema needn’t be thwarted by primordial considerations — generally perilous preoccupations of patriarchy.
Plethora of themes
This aspect could have been the strength of the novel had it been a more voluminous and more capacious novel. Simply too many themes make fleeting appearances: changing urban geography of Delhi, changing economic framework, opening up of India, upsurge of aspirations, religious polarisation, tenacity of prejudices, inter-generational disconnect, new ways of doing business, including outsourcing, and so on.
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The author seems to be tempted to weave these ideas as the background of the core story. For a book that is rather sketchy, slim and sparse, these themes do not get a more detailed treatment. Two themes that are covered in some detail are one, the sprawling urban geography of Delhi and two, the business world and changing social make-up of Gujarat, including its diaspora.
Bollywoodesque
The novel unfolds like a Bollywood movie and if someone wishes to turn it into a movie, she or he will have almost a ready-made script at hand. It could come close to 2 States. Like a typical Bollywood movie, the novel abounds in sudden surprises. So Seema beats Mohan hands down in a tennis match when there is nothing to suggest her background of sporting excellence. Kantibhai dies all of a sudden, facilitating inter-faith marriage. The way Javed storms into the office of Kantibhai in a fit of tempestuous rage but returns mollified reminds one of Jab We Met. Again, Javed gets reconciled to the inter-faith marriage in an inexplicable change of heart. Like a typical Bollywood movie, it ends on a happy note of matrimonial bliss.
All said, the author is less descriptive and more prescriptive and is very keen on passing on certain key messages to the readers. Nothing wrong about it except that the book promises much more when Patel quotes from Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead: “We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.”