Anosh Irani

"The parcel" is really a ten-year-old girl, sold by her family into prostitution. This is the story of Madhu, born a boy but is transgender and lives as a woman. At 40 years of age, Madhu has left prostitution and is now a beggar. She is pressed into service by the head of her clan to prepare "the parcel" for life as a prostitute.

This is an incredibly deep novel about marginalized people who aren't accepted by their families and society in general. We watch Madhu participate in the show more victimization of the parcel, knowing that she herself was similarly victimized and marginalized. There is no moral ambiguity in Mr. Irani's writing; there is a recognition that characters have complex motivations and of the crucial need for belonging and acceptance that can bring people to dark places. A difficult read, but a good book. show less

Anosh Irani has a poetic style that shows the inner torments of a transgendered person living in hellish circumstances in a brothel in Bombay. He gives the reader a sense of the terrible violence and abuse done both to and by his subject, Madhu.
This is a terrible story and yet valuable for giving insight into the life and the feelings of Madhu. She chooses castration and a life of prostitution because she knows that her family will never accept her. She has understood that there will not be show more a place for her in her society, and decides that the support and love she finds within the brothel community is the best life she can choose. She discovers that the love there is mixed with exploitation and abuse, and her only physical comfort is with a man who lives outside the community. Even within the transgendered hijra community, there are castes and rivalries, and many hijras despise those who turn to sex work. She longs for her absent parents, and like the others in her brothel she dreams of a life where she can be who she is, even knowing how unrealistic that is.
In a twisted sense of caring, when asked to prepare a young girl to be raped, Madhu thinks that she can save the girl from a life of violence by teaching her to deny herself and her own feelings – exactly what Madhu cannot do in her own life. She takes pride in her ability to prepare young girls without violence, and feels that she is saving them from a worse alternative. By training the girls to be numb, she thinks, there will be no need to use violence. This will not only spare the girls direct physical violence, but it will leave them with a spark of hope and prevent them from going crazy. Is this merely rationalization on Madhu’s part, or is it a reflection of what she has had to do in her own life?
Irani also voices the rationalization of Bombay’s proper citizens, who know but avoid thinking of the violence and abuse in the city’s prostitution district. They think that by allowing rape in the brothels, they are protecting other girls and women from the violence of men. And so they choose to ignore it, or to avoid dealing with an unpalatable subject.
This is of course a difficult read, both because of the pain in Madhu’s life, and because of the prospect that the girl faces. Madhu and the others in the brothel refer to her as a parcel to be prepared for opening, and that helps them distance themselves from what they are doing. Irani also focuses mainly on Madhu and her struggles, leaving the girl’s world to be seen and guessed at from outside. Without this, it might have been too much to deal with, as perhaps it should be. Reading this, I had a feeling like the feeling I had on reading Umberto Eco’s The Prague Cemetery, that aspects of the story are too repellant to want to read, but here, unlike Eco’s novel, I was also engrossed in discovering the hijra’s life in Bombay, how she chose to live in the brothel and how she turned to sex work and numbing her pain.
And in spite of the evocative language that Irani uses, his narrative can also be distancing. Except for Madhu’s inner thoughts, Irani describes most situations in a detached matter-of-fact style, whether the cell in which the girl is kept or the revenge that a brothel’s leader inflicts on the man who violated her. Madhu’s experiences and feelings are vivid and the language gives a sensuous picture of the parts of Bombay as Madhu sees them.
I was disappointed in the ending, though, which seemed melodramatic, and the liberal tone in the Epilogue seems simply out of place. I suppose that Irani had to so something to close the story, and a realistic ending could lead readers to despair. After all, there are few happy endings in a story like this, whether it takes place in Bombay or in North America. The book explores a life and a perspective that is rarely shown and calls for empathy where it would not often be offered. And that is enough in a well-written novel. show less

Chamdi is a 10 year old boy raised in an orphanage in Bombay. For his entire life, he has been awaiting the return of one of his parents to take him home. He has not been outside the walls of the orphanage, but is sure that the city of Bombay is beautiful and full of loving people. He imagines a beautiful place and names it "Kahunsha", which to him meant "the city of no sadness." When the matron tells the children that the orphanage will be moving, Chamdi decides to run away and look for his show more father.

When Chamdi arrives on the streets of Bombay he quickly learns that people are not kind. He spends a night and two days on the street with nothing to eat, scorned by the people around him. On his second night he is approached by a girl his age, and she brings him to an alley where she lives with her brother and their mother who is schizophrenic and detached from reality. The girl, Guddi, and her brother, Sumdi, had approached Chamdi because they had noticed how thin he was, and felt that they could make use of him to slip through the bars of a nearby temple and steal the offering plate. Chamdi is horrified at the thought of stealing, but Guddi and Sumdi have been kind to him and fed him, so he decides to stay with them as they teach him the art of begging. They introduce him to their "Boss", Anand Bhai, an older man to whom they must daily turn over the proceeds of their begging, and be rewarded with a small amount in return. On his first meeting, Chamdi witnesses Anand casually gouge out the eye of another child beggar he caught withholding some of his earnings.

Over the next several days Chambi learns to live on the streets. He is surprised to find so many people sleeping in the streets, and begins to view the entire city of Bombay as an orphanage. He sees and experiences many horrors, but Chambi tries to maintain his illusions. All of this takes place against sectarian violence that broke out when Hindus destroyed a particularly holy mosque. Chambi and his friends are ultimately unable to avoid this violence.

The novel is narrated from the pov of Chamdi, and his is a delightful and charming voice, despite the grimness of his experiences.

Recommended

3 1/2 stars show less

I’m a sucker for a book with a catchy title. Usually I regret that. But in this case the stories contained in this collection are almost as successful as the title that announces them. Anosh Irani bookends his seven short stories with two halves of a quasi-memoir that establishes his bona fides as a writer of the immigrant experience and, in particular, of Mumbai, old and new. Some of the stories, such as “Swimming Coach” are overtly artful, displaying, I imagine, the influence of a show more graduate degree in creative writing. Others feel very personal, even as they struggle to articulate a trapped emotion, such as in “Butter Chicken.” Often there are noir elements in the stories, though at times that is merely backdrop to an ongoing terrain of anguish and loss as in “Mr. Molt.”

The writing has depth and a kind of earnestness that, perhaps, lacks lightness or charm. One feels that one is very much reading through a considered, even well-considered, sequence of events. So, not entirely captivating, but not disappointing either. On the basis of these stories, I’d certainly be willing to read more. And that is probably enough recommendation for any author.

Gently recommended. show less