Sharvay | Fiction | Mansi |
Speaking Tiger (2023) | ISBN: 978-9354475269 |
Paperback | pp 320 | Rs. 499
 

A novel that celebrates female friendships, discovering one’s voice and the struggles

“Does knowledge belong to the people who narrate it or to the person who recognizes its value?” (Pg. 180)

The novel is set in the eighth century in South India during the rule of the Rastrakutas and focuses on the protagonist Sharvay, an orphan who lives with the kitchen-in-charge. She becomes the peekadhari for Princess Avantika. In the initial pages of the novel, there is a section that delves into the inner recesses of the minds of the women from various strata in their approach to chewing tambulam, which in the North Indian context would be known as paan. Avantika, the princess “wished she could chew up her life and spit it out … She was surely and certainly heading towards a future in which she was the tambulam. A gift to be offered to some neighbouring kingdom’s ruler. To be chewed and relished in political delight”. (Pg. 22) And then we have Sharvay who struggles to understand the properties of a tambulam, and how a red stain could be produced by chewing a green betel leaf. “Years of holding the spittoon for the princess made her detest anything to do with betel leaves. The only good thing was that, as she had grown older, the heavy spittoon had become lighter”. (Pg. 22) The contrast is a stark one and provides an insight into the socio-economic conditions that divide the two women and their thought processes. But what emerges as a unifying agent is that both are bound to what is expected of them as women. The invisible chains that tie them to their stations in life.

There are two parts into which one can divide the book. The first part deals with Sharvay’s life as a spittoon holder where she is seen hiding a palm leaf and practising how to write secretly with a charcoal stick as she had no access to ink that was kept for use in the courthouse and the treasury. “There was no ink needed for the women who were supposed to pay more attention to their unguents and jewellery”. (Pg. 59). She also overhears lessons being given to the princess and learns to speak languages. One can choose to delve into the politics of language, but I would like to focus on the division that comes down to gender. How Sanskrit was considered a language that men spoke in the courts and here in the novel, Avantika is being taught the language, on her father the king’s insistence as “he was aware of the palace intrigues and wanted to be sure that his daughter, by being educated, would be the principal queen and ensure a powerful political alliance.” (Pg. 25) The question of unequal treatment that arises from the caste that one is born into has been brought up early in the novel by Sharvay. But these questions that arise in her mind remain within, “The world was not ready for women philosophers or philosophers who were not from the so-called pure castes”. (Pg. 268)

It is in the second part of her life when Sharvay is given a new lease of life and the name by her life rescuer, Kumbaja, that she truly comes to her own. The thoughts that lay coiled within her are freed. Of course, the fear of censorship by those in power remains and it is difficult for her to get rid of the demons from her past who time and again raise their heads to diminish her presence in her own eyes. But she is freer and comes to attain a mind of her own. With a change in her personal circumstances, she is considered a woman from the upper caste and assigned an assistant, Bakumi, to help her. She turns to Bakumi this time and asks for a palm leaf to write on. Bakumi is taken aback and asks, “Aryaa, do you know how to write yourself? You are not copying or writing the acharya’s words, how will you make words yourself on the palm script? This is so unusual. Are you a kavi, a poet? What words will you write...” (Pg. 114) The questioning remains and every step that is taken by a woman in attaining knowledge/freedom remains under the radar. One unknowingly in trying to break through such barriers, creates them either for herself or for others. As Sharvay observes, “She glanced at the high walls around the complex that were keeping her away from her palm leaves. ‘Who drew these boundaries? Am I also not creating these walls again, by following these rules? Am I making them stronger?” (Pg. 116)

What is interesting about the writing style of this book is that the narrator inserts herself as well into the story thus breaking down the wall that divides the narrator from her creation. The ancient and the modern worlds collide with the interspersing chapters where one is suddenly transported ahead into the modern world. A very clever strategy used by the author to snap a reader out of a world of the past and, an important move – to understand that there are echoes of a past that leak into the present and that certain ideas/practices have not changed. Yes, they might have been hidden cleverly in the present world, but they exist and thrive.

Her life was based on a larger lie, but that was not of her doing. The larger lie had to hide her womanhood, her caste, and its unfair regulation of the pursuit of knowledge, even its practice. Her lie was her truth and salvation. (Pg. 147)

Towards the end of the novel, there is an incident where a group of monks and students are sorting through manuscripts and throwing a few into the fire. A curious visitor asks them the reason for doing so. And they reply –

These? These ones are not valid. They were written by a mishra-varna peekadhari … A woman’s mind is unstable and full of desires. How can such a mind that too of a lowly servant, produce correct knowledge? We are burning it to save future students from reading these texts and being corrupted.

One cannot gain a voice if the patriarchal forces exist that are drenched in superiority. The novel brings out the never-ending struggle that women face through the pages of this book. There are no final wins but a sense of impending doom that casts its shadow on every step Sharvay takes or thinks of taking. But not all is lost. This is also a book that celebrates female friendships, looks at the journey of discovering one’s voice and the constant struggles to remain afloat in a world riddled by traditions and taboos that encircle and try to trap a woman to remain below the surface, and counts every breath she takes; this book is about breaking free.

Let them hear your voice. It is not right to try and imitate the voice of those who deny you. You must speak for yourself. Remember, you should never silence your own voice. (Pg. 157)