Echoes of Melody & Melancholy

A caveat is in order. Bijoya Sawian is a wonderful friend and an active participant in book discussions and outreach programmes of VoW. However, the curatorial team at VoW has absolutely no role in the selection of books for the Book Awards—as this responsibility vests in the independent jury, which rotates each year. So, I was delighted to note that her book Hill Songs of Love and Longing: A Collection of Short Stories is on the VoW Fiction longlist for this year. Sawian has written extensively on the legends and myths of the Khasis, contributed articles to Sahitya Akademi journals, and to books edited by Ruskin Bond and Namita Gokhale. She also has to her credit a debut novel Shadow Men and From Sylhet to Shillong, the biography of her father, Lala Bimalendu Kumar Dey—the last IGP of undivided Assam.

In this collection of eleven short stories, each (except Rosalynn) is named after a Khasi female protagonist—Linsinora, Wanbok, Asorphi, Risalin, Riiaka, Betimai, Saphira, Iadmon, Mino, and Dalinia. Love and longing are juxtaposed: more often than not, longing is more lasting—or one may say everlasting—for love is certainly beautiful, but usually fleeting. So we have moments of ecstasy, followed by years of yearning, and finally, for some, a deep understanding and acceptance of the way life pans out in myriad ways.

Though most stories have a Khasi protagonist, the locales extend beyond Meghalaya—to hamlets in Himachal, New Delhi, and of course, Dehradun. For those unfamiliar with the region, it gives a flavour of Shillong and its environs. Thus, we learn that in July—the month of Naitung—people in the eastern hills do not marry, mainly because of the inclement weather, just as they avoid April—the month of Iaiong—because of the strong winds. Each story is unique and has a twist in the tail, which often makes the reader pause to reflect on how the characters come to terms with the fortuitous turns of life.

Linsinora’s first-ever encounter with a man who is not her husband, father, brother, uncle, cousin, or a member of the extended family leaves her with a sense of wonderment and awe: this is the first time a male ever gave her a compliment. She is nonplussed and left wondering if it was real—or the stuff of dreams! She confesses that the “cow dung mop” on her head was through her British great-grandfather.

Wanbok is excited about his mother marrying Uncle Boris—in fact, it is he who broaches the subject, little realizing that Uncle Boris is actually his real, biological father. Likewise, Asorphi gets to learn that the one relative she truly loved, adored, and respected—her mother’s elder cousin San Phylis (Phylisdora Khargonkar), who lived in a rambling heritage home bought by her Anglo-Indian husband, an ex-Air Force officer—was her real mother. Fate had separated them, but circumstances brought them together again.

Risalin is also a story of unrequited love, but this came with an acceptance that Rangkynsai, whom she loved and adored, could not have loved her in the conventional sense—for he was not heterosexual. But yes, they had bonded deeply, and their conversations were marked by empathy and an understanding of their social realities. Rang had plans of becoming a public figure—either through the IAS or politics.

He had told her, “If I were the Minister of Agriculture, I would see that no one ever leaves his land by making sure he ekes out a decent living from it and does not run off to the city... If I were the Education Minister, I would quote Mark Twain – Don’t let books interfere with your education, and if I were the Health Minister, I would make Yoga compulsory.”

The young Captain Vinod Sarin, who is enamoured with Riiaka and her beautiful blue jainsem, is not aware that she is actually his half-sister—the daughter of his father’s stenographer during an earlier posting in Shillong. But the story is more about why Riiaka is upset with her mother and grandmother for not extending any help to her brother—because he had married a Christian girl!

Betimai, the youngest daughter and the keeper of the family’s heritage as the khatduh, is the fourth wife of her ‘aristocratic’ husband, who does not consummate his marriage with her for eight years, for in his own words, excessive drinking had driven out the sex drive from his system. Yet, at his death, among the mourners was a young woman in her twenties with a four-year-old son, who looked exactly like his father.

Saphira was fourteen, a student of the Ramakrishna Mission school in Sohra (Cherrapunjee). A letter from Chandigarh, from her widowed aunt’s ex-husband’s family, had shaken their world—but it was shattered when she looked into the eyes of her late uncle’s brother and, in a single flash, knew that he was indeed her uncle’s murderer.

Iadamon, set in Shimla, Darjeeling and Shillong, is about a mother’s helplessness, despair, and acute agony when she collapses upon receiving a call from the police station that her bright son Erik “was part of a militant group, and some accomplices have been...”

The magical realism in the story around the grave in Kasauli, with the inscription “Here lies Rosalynn Anne / Sweet fragrant violet / fading timelessly”, leaves one wondering: is this for real, or is one imagining?

Mino is perhaps the only story in which the protagonist is her husband Khlainbor, who killed his wife and sister when they scoffed at his failure to make a fortune by smuggling red pine from the reserved forests—revered by his forebears—for the crass and greedy tycoons of Shillong. Everyone is a victim in this macabre tale.

Last but not least is Dalinia’s narrative, set in the picturesque golf course of Shillong, where her husband Bantei Roy, a senior IAS officer, was organizing a golf tournament for the who’s who of the country. She too was looking forward to joining her husband in the century-old club. Suddenly and most unexpectedly, she saw Rajiv Kapur from Cal (Kolkata), and then her mind was flooded with memories of her days in college with her ‘first love’ Ashwin. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance across Delhi, Mussoorie, Landour, and Bombay, filled with promises to lead their lives together—and then he had gone to England, where he died in a tragic accident with these words on his lips: “There is no such place as far away.”

Each story is a masterpiece in itself… no wonder it is on the list of VoW!

The writer, a former Director of LBS National Academy of Administration, is currently a historian, policy analyst and columnist, and serves as the Festival Director of Valley of Words — a festival of arts and literature