‘The Far Field’ — Himalayas
How it felt to read a story about people of the Himalayas, while traveling in its foothills
I'm sure many authors receive applause and awards but the highest accolade is when their writing moves someone to act. Madhuri Vijay’s writing has moved me, and compelled me to write this. A product of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, her debut novel “The Far Field” has won literary awards last year. The story takes place in Madhuri’s home-town Bengaluru and the mountainous villages of Kashmir.
My husband and I read “The Far Field” last week, when we were traveling in Mussoorie and Landour. The quaint hill station was my first acquaintance with the Himalayas. Being in the foothills of the Himalayas with her novel made me feel one with her story-line, which clearly, must have emerged from her experiences teaching in Kashmir. As I read the book, I couldn't help but imagine the events taking place in real-time just a few mountain ranges away with characters similar to the pahadi folks I met on our strolls and treks.
In Landour cantonment, a more pristine part of Mussoorie, there is a point which originally had only four shops selling tea and snacks. Still called ‘Char Dukan’, (which literally means four shops, in Hindi) we stopped here several times on our treks to refuel with hot coffee. The candor and simplicity of the ladies at the cafe was refreshing, in that they were quick to admit that their cafes are over-hyped merely because a few celebrities had visited and a couple of films had been shot nearby in the recent years. On the contrary, any commercial vendor in Delhi or Mumbai would have been quick to ride on the hype and share every little picture and story of a celebrity visit. Then, quickly share a menu of hiked up coffee prices.
On the other side of Mussoorie is The Mall, a long, open street with shops selling everything from chai and momos to exquisite Kashmiri shawls. At the beginning of the street sits a young man in his mid-twenties, perhaps. Very similar in appearance to Bashir Ahmed, a key character in Madhuri’s novel, he showed the same candor as the ladies at Char Dukan. Holding my daughters’ rapt attention as he deftly sewed the seams of our shoes, he gave us a peek into his simple life. He shared the story of his family’s progress starting with his grandfather’s humble beginnings as a cobbler at that same spot until now when he has savings accounts in local banks and also contributes to a local micro savings institution. In which other town would you find people who speak freely about their finances and financial plans? We received a peek into his day-to-day life just as Madhuri’s protagonist Shalini became amused with Bashir Ahmed’s stories about life in his remote Kashmiri hamlet.
Yet, I could not ignore the havoc that tourism and plastic waste is wreaking on the quaint hills of Mussoorie. There is no litter on the streets because we often saw a local woman or two sweeping them. Good move, Uttarakhand government. Yet, where does all the litter they push away end up? In the valley! In between the successive spirals of the mountain roads! It seems, in Mussoorie the rule is to allow the vistas up ahead to take your breath away but the moment you stare down, the magic disappears. Tourism has also led to a surge in ugly construction of hotels and cafes along most of the slopes. The once lush Deodar forests now seem to be competing for attention with tall hotels and lodges. In lieu of economic development, Mussoorie seems to be losing the very charm which made her the Queen of these hills. In parallel, I read about the inevitable impact on the simple lives of the local Kashmiri people in Madhuri’s detailed account, of non-natives coming into Kashmir, often with the intention of discovering and helping.
If I were to describe her novel to another person, I'd use the word 'saddening'. Saddening for the sheer futility of any 'outside' effort to help Kashmiri people, no matter how well-intentioned. Once again my visit to Mussoorie and my reading of ‘The Far Field’ reminded the development economist in me that it is only home-grown solutions implemented by the natives that have any hope of making progress.
Using fiction to handle such a complex political subject and to get this wisdom across is Madhuri Vijay’s most remarkable feat. I am grateful that she has written this novel. It has shifted something within me.
