Review: Navsari Tales by Berjis Desai
Much like Malgudi – to which the author alludes – which captured the quintessential, pastoral Indian childhood, Navsari Tales, a collection of short stories set in the eponymous town, captures the quintessential Parsi idyll. Except that Navsari is a real place and the stories in this volume aren't pure fiction though Desai's characters run the full spectrum of human oddities.
In typical Bawaji fashion, there is the usual vegetarian-and-teetotaler bashing with a special mention being made of Morarji Desai. There is writing about heavy lunches, followed by siestas and ungodly large amounts of chai. There are extremely creative limericks and much bawdy wordplay in Gujarati that no translation can do justice to. And there is also a focus on the usual elitism and snobbery that is a hallmark of a large Parsi mohalla. Central to Desai's humour is the eccentricity of the Parsi tongue, our system of naming things, such as the 'Dharaka no bungalow', dharaka meaning 'explosion' – a reference to both a physical explosion of a bomb and the gastric one of the owner. The humour is uniquely ribald: there's the Parsi lawyer who mishears "trying" for "frying" and the use of phrases like "kone hawa bagaadi?", a euphemism for "Who broke wind?" The number of times constipation is mentioned in this slim volume immediately marks it out as an apt memoir of the Parsi way of life. Desai also makes a rather shrewd observation about the "bastardisation" of Gujarati, expounding on the connection between the purity of language spoken and the orthodoxy of its speaker.
The depiction of Parsis in Navsari Tales is free of the usual stereotyping. This is not about an eccentric minority being ridiculed by others. In the Navsari of the immediate post-Independence period, we were the bullies, the majority. This is, in some sense, how Parsis behave when no one is watching. In Desai's retelling, the Parsi is a creature of satire who has enough faith in the universe to take revenge on their enemies and finds the chaos of everyday life extremely ironic.
Take, for instance, the child marriage ceremony of Mumai that results in an asexual, childless married life and the silence that follows a surprising turn of events. Then, there's the greed of a man who steals a choker from a widow and is, in turn, punished, and the mistress of a prominent lawyer who drags him to court after being jilted by her lover. There's also the doctor whose compounder has a mind of his own when it comes to dispensing medicine. In remembering these stories, Desai also manages to present a fairly accurate history of Navsari and Bombay, including the bubonic plague of 1896.
The collection is tied together by characters who reappear throughout the book in different contexts and in a variety of hilarious and poignant situations.
Navsari Tales is a sharp commentary on class and hypocrisy that's a feature not only in the community's dealings with non-Parsis but also in how members deal with each other too. Bai Bai, karasyo! is a hilarious tale of how Navsari's elite circle is infiltrated by a simpleton who proposes the most ingenious cure for the common cold. In other stories, the stunning practicality of marrying one's cousins is well argued. Desai also evokes, in great detail, an India of the 1950s where the slow permeation of technology into small towns meant radios and even train travel was reserved for special occasions. Also mentioned are the occult practices, talismans, exorcisms, superstitions and traditional beliefs both of Parsi origin and those borrowed from others, practised in the town. These are juxtaposed against the beliefs and ways of the hardliners or what the author terms "the Navsari orthodox". Most fascinatingly, Desai mentions the alternate physicians, home cures, family remedies, and the Parsi priest who doubled as the town messenger, often inviting the wrong town for weddings!
Key Insights
- This topic is currently trending
- Experts are closely monitoring developments
- It may impact future decisions
