The Dark Room - R K Narayan - A slightly painful Book Review

My last book too has been an R K Narayan. It took me to the depths of my emotions and to the heights of introspective analysis of my own intellectual and emotional strength. I am a peculiar kind of reader. I have these bouts of reading preferences wherein I read a series of books by one author or similar genre at least and there are times when weeks on end I cant read another line. It is perhaps the time I take to fully soak all that I had been reading till them, the time given for my soul to drench in all the emotions that the reading had produced in me. It is my preparatory time so that my mind as a sponge is ready to receive and absorb what the next book offers.

It makes me feel connected with the world that was created by one story. That story, that world has touched me on such profound levels that I want to dwell a little more there, even if it's only virtually. This urge inadvertently takes me to a similar book, people by similar characters, taking me places that my wandering mind is ceaselessly in search of.

The English Teacher was a riveting read. It was short and I wanted my heart to linger a little more in that world. This could be why I took up another of R K Narayan. Being a devout and blind Narayan fan and follower, I curse myself for saying this, but The Dark Room was a little bit disappointing, mostly because it ended abruptly.

The story felt a bit monotonous, unengaging and the end abrupt. A writer and his work cannot be fully separated, they both share several commonalities, though also anomalies. Narayan sir was going through a loss, the loss of his beloved wife. During this time, most of his works reflect loss, grief, defeat, etc. The Dark Room is almost entirely bereft of the wry humor that is Narayan sir's signature writing style. I learn that after a series of grief as a predominant theme in his books, his humor resurfaces only in The Financial Expert which I am yet to read.

Ramani and Savitri had been married for several years now and were blessed with three children- Babu, Sumati, and Kamala. Ramani's attitude towards Savitri is rather callous, if not disrespectful. Ramani treats everyone with a casual arrogance that borders on insolence.

Savitri's world, like most Indian housewives, is limited to her house. She exhausts herself with day-to-day chores with a religious servitude and unflinching devotion, be it maintaining her husband's volatile and explosive temper, meeting all of the exhaustive demands of her children, supervising the cook and the gardener. For all her selfless efforts, all she gets is the sneers and rebukes that Ramani authoritatively showers her with.

Everytime she feels hurt or dejected, she retires to a dark room in the house. Lying listlessly, her face towards the wall, Savitri drowns her sorrow in the darkness of that room.

The sole respite Savitri has is the company of her friends Janamma and Gangu, whom she visits every now and then. There is a special furniture in the hall on which he lies down for an afternoon siesta, when all work has been taken care of and the cook goes out for a quick smoke.

Though imperfect, though loveless and ignored and trashed by her husband of several years, Savitri still holds on to her existence, trying to comfort herself with the simple joys life offers a married woman- the joy of taking care of her children, seeing them live and prosper, all their needs taken care of, her friends' companionship, the afternoon siesta in that furniture, the home-made meals, the security of just being married and having a man look after her, them, their children, a secured, stable life- all of it. Yes, she feels neglected, unwanted, and unhappy, but that's ok. Nobodys' life is perfect. Gangu has her battles, so does Janamma.

And more over, there is the dark room where she can always retire to; which will fill all her wounds with its smothering darkness so much that after a while, she feels a numbness in the place once occupied by an uremitting pain.

Raw wounds hurt the most. They say time heals, but it's not time that heals. Over time, we learn to bear the pain, to carry it with silence and dignity, giving it an outlet only once while when some memories prick its healing corners. Grief never healfs fully. Our life itself is the healing process and it continues till the last breath. This is why people who have gone through irreplaceable loss of a loved one often feel like everyday is a battle, a struggle that never ends and after fighting for a while, they feel exhausted, like they cannot carry on even for one more day. This is why depression occurs in bouts, it always relapses ad you always run the risk of a recurring attack.

Apart from fighting the grief, there is the struggle to fight the overpowering feeling to end the pain that seems indomitable, like an fierce enemy fighting with all its strength to cruch your soul to shreds. Sometimes, in moments of vulnerability, some people give in to that mounting pressure. They call it quits, not because they were weak or coward, it's just that the grief was so powerful that it drained all their vitality and power to fight.

Light is the celebrated hero, but isn't in darkness that we feel more comforted when in grief? In the piercing light of the day, our struggles become more real, emphasized and take monstrous size. Somehow there is this calming feeling that its time to rest, take a break from the grieving, all can be taken care of in the morning with a renewed energy.

Shanthabai, a beautiful, effortlessly charming young, recently-seperated trainee joins Ramani's office. He is so smitten with her beauty and charisma that he pulls all stops to get her the job and she does. Ramani goes overboard to help her get settled, even talking furniture and utensils from his own home to stock Shanthabai's new boarding- a shack in the backside of the office.

Savitri's favorite piece of furniture too is carried away to Shantabai's new abode. Despite her sulking and mumbling protests, Ramani takes it away, even throwing himself at her service, be it a walk in the twilight by the riverside, or a cinema, or a dinner date. Rumors had been doing rounds about Ramani's dalliances with a strange woman.

It's all too much for Savitri's battered heart. Her husband denying her love and attention was one thing but he showering it abundantly on a much younger, perhaps beautiful woman was unbearbale.

Though far from idyllic, Savitri had been living with a semblance of happily-married-with-children life. With Shanthabai's entrance, this facade was being ruthlessly pulled down, with scant regard for Savitri's feelings and dignity. How long can she take it? Her husband refuses to even acknowledge her disapproval of his conduct. He has been staying away from the house, even arriving only early morning next day.

As always she retires to the dark room, hoping its darkness will quell her anxieties and that smarting hurt will subside eventually. Ramani too continues his indifference unabated, firm in his belief that as always Savitri will resume handling the household chores after sulking in her dark room for a few days.

But this time savitri is determined not to swallow her pride. If Ramani is not giving her the dignity of a wife, she is ready to wrest it from him and she walks out of the house after a violent altercation between the two.

The rest of the story is about her survival in a strange place. But in her plight, Savitri realizes that if this extreme step was taken to teach her husband a lesson, it is she who is in fact learning the hard lessons of life one by one.

How long can Savitri bear the life away from the comforts of her home, not knowing how her children are faring. She suddenly questions herself- "her" children? Didnt he sire them? Didnt he take care of their expenses? Didnt he say that they will all fare "splendidly well" without her?

Will savitri go back to that house with the dark room? Despite earning a livelihood and eating a meal of her own hard-earned money for the first time in her life, Savitri's mind is riddled with concerns over her children and she feels an excruciating pang everytime she thinks of the coziness of her bed, how peacefully she slept, secured in the belief that her children are healthy and sleeping soundly in the next room. With none of these physical or emotional comforts, Savitri is heartbroken and desolate.

Every story of R K Narayan takes you to a very unique space. Malgudi, Lawley Extension, Albert Mission School, Mudali Street, these fictitious places and streets are all peopled with people like you and me, characters facing daily life struggles.

I, as a reader, couldn't escape the metaphor of The Dark Room. Narayan sir has deftly crafted the story and the title in such a way that, only a reader with a keen sense of involvement can decipher the comparison of "The Dark Room" to the dark spaces in our mind. Don't we all have a dark room inside ourselves wherein we put away all that's unpleasant in our lives, those memories that are too potent enough to drive us crazy have been shoved away so that we can continue to breathe and live our lives. That dark room where we retire to once a while to brood over a loss, a defeat, a betrayal, lick at its wounds, try desperately to speed its healing, sometimes in vain.

The book will seem very uninteresting for a person who reads a book, solely, for relishing a story. I have a blatant disregard for people who regard a book as just a means to enjoy a good story. a book is not limited to just the story, it's so much more than that if only you let yourself be immersed in its ebb and flow to be carried away to worlds unseen, yet vaguly familiar, like the fragmented bits of a distant dream.

The End...........

Upcoming Book Review- Kamala Markandaya's A Handful of Rice