Plain Tales from the Edge

IF there is a common thread in Radhika Jha8217;s collection of short stories it is the brooding certitude of uncertainty. The location may ...

IF there is a common thread in Radhika Jha8217;s collection of short stories it is the brooding certitude of uncertainty. The location may change: it could be remote Mangladi in south India or cosmopolitan Delhi but the sense is the same 8212; the best laid plans really stand no chance.

Jha first made literary news three years ago with Smell, a novel set in Paris. It won her the Prix Guerlain in France. All stories in her latest offering, except one set in Paris, are in located in India.

It8217;s on the choking streets of Delhi that Rani the elephant and her mahout make their slow way out. The chaotic traffic leaves the elephant upset and smashing a Maruti. Shweta, an executive trapped in the jam, misses a crucial office meeting and is reprimanded publicly by her boss. As she leaves, the parking lot attendant asks her to pay. Irritated, she claims she already has and having once said it, it8217;s difficult to backtrack. It8217;s a meaningless lie, kept alive by an irrational ego. For Kishore, the attendant it lives on in more horrible consequences. Beaten up by the police, robbed by them of his money, he pleads with the 8216;seth8217; who runs the parking lot to give him time to return it. The forgiving seth then takes him home and molests him.

As a bruised and bundled Kishore is thrown out on the deserted inky streets of Delhi, he is offered a lift by Rani8217;s mahout, on his way home. 8216;8216;The elephant wrapped her trunk around Kishore8217;s waist and lifted him onto her back.8217;8217; 8216;8216;Together the three of them left the streets of New Delhi behind.8217;8217; A series of unconnected events are linked as its initiator and its final consequence together make a long day8217;s last journey.

There is a certain brooding magic in this tale. The common occurrences of city life 8212; an elephant, that symbol of ancient India, standing at a red light along with a Maruti, the heralder of new India; endless quibbling with parking lot boys, all take on a frightening unsettling dust.

There is a brooding magic to Jha8217;s tales. Common occurrences of city life take on unsettling dust

8216;8216;The Cook8217;8217;, set in Paris, is again a disturbing story of what happens when the mind and memory desert. Marcello, a chef is losing his skill but instead thinks it8217;s his wife and daughter who are conspiring to take over from him. At the end of an elaborate wedding feast that he has prepared, he waits for appreciation. He watches the groom8217;s face as he takes his first mouthful only to find distaste written on it. Marcello unties his apron and steps out. 8216;8216;What had gone wrong? What had betrayed him?8217;8217; There is no answer.

8216;8216;The Sleepers8217;8217; is about communal tension in small town South India that has a ghastly end.

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But Jha attempts too many times in this collection to get a twist to her stories. In some it works, in others it ends up looking trite. One such contrived ending is 8220;Hope8221;, an account of the exchanges between two colleagues 8212; Shailendra, an optimistic small town man, and Sheila, a cynical city slicker 8212; who travel together every day to their newspaper office. At the end of the narrative Shailendra decides to propose to Sheila but before he can pop the question she tells him she has resigned and is getting married. There8217;s no thrill of surprise here, only a certain dullness.