>>REVIEW
WATER
Bapsi Sidhwa
Key Porter Books, 228 pp.
I saw the movie, then read the book.
Generally, the order would be reversed, but in this case, Bapsi Sidhwa wrote Water after reading the screenplay from Deepa Mehta’s acclaimed film of the same title. As expected, the plot and the characters in the book match the movie. However, Sidhwa had the advantage of infusing details that the movie could not possibly capture given its time constraints.
Water takes us to 1930s India, a time when widows were warehoused in ashrams, where they lived in poverty until death. They were untouchables – not because of their caste, but because they were considered bad luck. It was their fault their husbands died. The superstition that their ill fate would rub off on others was motivation enough to discard them from mainstream society. Was this the real reason? "One less mouth to feed, four saris, one bed to let – somewhere a corner saved for another widow. There is no other reason. Disguised as religion, it’s just about money."
Water appears to be a morbid tale of abuse, hypocrisy and adultery – perhaps a portrayal of everything vile about human nature. Yet, it’s a love story rooted in spirituality. Where there is love, there is hope. Where there is spirituality, there is strength to behave morally and ethically. In the novel, Mahatma Gandhi spearheads social and political changes with his teachings of tolerance and peace.
As water rejuvenates the surroundings by washing away impurities, this story heralds the dawn of a better society by challenging the atrocities committed against women. Chuyia hops and skips in the shaded canopy of an orchard. While her brothers go to school, she makes meals on a play stove for her ceramic dolls. Soon the six year old is married to a 44-year-old grandfather. Her mom protests the huge age difference, but Chuyia’s father, a Brahmin priest, says, "A girl is destined to leave her parents’ home early or she will bring disgrace to it. She is safe and happy only in her husband’s care."
Chuyia continues to live with her parents. Following tradition, she would move in with her husband after puberty. Plans change when she becomes a widow. The marriage wasn’t consummated, and she vaguely remembered the ceremony. In the eyes of society though, Chuyia ceases to exist when her husband dies. The transformation from a bride to widow is immediate. Her long curly locks chopped, the red glass bangles broken from her wrists, Chuyia, now bald and wearing a plain white cotton sari, is dumped in an ashram on the banks of the Ganges.
You sigh at the ridiculousness of the situation and read on with intense curiosity. Social activists push for widow remarriage, but pundits use their own interpretation of the scriptures to muzzle the idea.
On the contrary, men are allowed to remarry, keep mistresses or visit prostitutes. "Our holy texts say Brahmins can sleep with whomever they want, and the women they sleep with are blessed."
Back at the ashram, some widows are more privileged than others. Kalyani has her own room. Her silky hair, tied into a partial knot, flows elegantly down to her waist. The head widow regularly cashes in on Kalyani’s beauty. Rumour has it when she first arrived at the ashram as a teenaged virgin, a client paid handsomely for her services. Kalyani prays to remain pure at heart like the lotus which grows in muck but is unscathed by it.
Water is the second collaborative effort between Mehta and Sidhwa, who worked together once before on the making of Earth (that film was based on Sidhwa’s novel Cracking India). In Water, Sidhwa blends fiction with reality to create a work both heartbreaking and believable, showing the same confidence and detail she did in Cracking India, a story about Hindu-Muslim riots during partition. If you thirst for a strong narrative with lovable as well as loathsome characters, this Water might just hit the spot. |
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