Book Review - The Ministry of Utmost Happiness

A remarkable exposé of sentiments in a complex tale

Is "truth stranger than fiction" or is "fiction stranger than truth?" I had to ask myself this question several times over as I read The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, by the much celebrated author Arundhati Roy. Although the author has come out with her second fiction after two decades, she has been an integral part of the literary world and her writings mostly depict the "voices of the unheard" along with hers. Arundhati Roy is an astute story teller, the best plotter and a master in her craft. There is no denying this fact. However this much awaited and highly speculated book before its release may have resulted in turmoil and mixed feelings after the release. Why?

In The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, Arundhati Roy has in her inimitable style gone overboard by packing a myriad of issues: political, cultural, social, ethnic, historic, archaic and contemporary; all caught up in the largest democracy of the world. The author has interwoven these by creating 'larger than life' characters that simply take your breath away. My only problem was keeping up with so many of them. In fact, one such chapter introduces an important character and it takes several pages and patience, to even get to his name.

Being a political activist and feminist, Arundhati Roy is known to stir the hornets' nest. I noted with interest and skepticism the author's courage, conviction and chutzpah to come up with a novel like this. The author has unleashed her emotions on the past and current state of affairs of the country through this book. She has even questioned the future, a bit too bold, perhaps? In a way, there is nothing wrong about that, after all this is a free country and we are entitled to our opinions, whether we express it or not. If certain incidents splashed by the media have been quoted (and they have been) it is understandable. However when sentiments overtake imagination the book assumes a different form and purpose, altogether and The Ministry of Utmost Happiness starts to resemble a non-fiction half-way through. That is where, in my opinion, the confusion begins. Maybe the author intended this fiery combination. In fact she has acknowledged and thanked a few people for having kept her out of prison, thus far. A discerning reader will understand what this means.

Arundhati Roy has literally risen from nowhere, no silver spoon and her early years were not a bed of roses. The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy's first fiction written in a different era altogether, won the Booker Prize, outstanding accolades as well as criticism and catapulted her to international fame and financial success. This book was more of a familial nature, partly autobiographical, and hinged upon societal issues, caste system and its repercussions. In contrast The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is multifaceted and issue based.

A glimpse of Arundhati Roy's impeccable flair for prose can be seen in the run-up to the book itself. The story then begins with Anjum, a rare form of hermaphrodite with both male and female tendencies, living in a graveyard who asks the imam, at the end of a hurtful dialogue between the two, "Where do old birds go to die?" Same old question asked by Sophie mol in The God of Small Things. The answer lies in the book.

The story flashes back to the old city of Shahjahanabad where Aftab (who is Anjum) is born to Jahanara Begum and Mulaqat Ali after a series of three girls. But the mother's joy is short lived when she finds out that her progeny is neither a boy nor a girl. "Is it possible for a mother to be terrified of her own baby? Jahanara Begum was," says the author and lists 7 or so reactions, including a bowel malfunction and cleaning up after that. Jahanara Begum tirelessly tries to change Aftab's destiny and visits the dargah of Hazrat Sarmad Shaheed, who ironically was gay. She begs him to teach her how to love this boy. Peer pressure and social outlook forces a talented Aftab, out of a normal life and he gets drawn towards and drifts to Khwabgah, the house of dreams, only to finally live amongst his clan.

Arundhati Roy takes the reader over several pages of extremely well written and interesting description of the hijra community that come alive in their elements. Enter abandoned baby Zainab as a relief to satiate Anjum's maternal instincts. She brands her as the bandicoot and entertains her with all kinds of stories, the 'Flyover story' being the most loved and famed. The author doesn't mince words in her narratives, sometimes to the point of evoking distaste or disgust. Communal riots become a turning point in Anjum's life. She suffers silently and coins her being alive as 'butcher's luck.' Unable to come to terms with herself Anjum resigns to fate and goes to live in the graveyard and builds 'Jannat Guest House' which resembles an inn where all her people visit and make merry. Anjum lives amongst the dead and the living, awaiting her own death.

At this juncture, the author digresses and takes a leap in the direction of Kashmir. To this end she introduces another protagonist Tilottama typically dark skinned who also smokes beedis, and her three college mates Nagaraj Hariharan, Musa Yeswi (a Kashmiri) and Biplab Dasgupta who move on to take up important posts. The author has generously and ingeniously created too many characters resulting in fragmented stories, the top of the chart being the ones relating to Major Amrik Singh, ACP Pinky and Saddam Hussain (Dayachand). What ensues is a dramatic and exciting saga of love, friendship, struggle, torture, betrayal but not until after Arundhati Roy has vented about the Bhopal gas tragedy, Emergency, Sikh riots, communal riots, anti-corruption drive, saffron clad campaigners, politicians, their stooges, the PM, the CM and so on.

How does the author connect the two protagonists, and who is the bridge? Without giving away anything more, I wish to conclude by saying that no matter what political leanings and opinions Arundhati Roy may have, she certainly knows how to hold the attention of the reader. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, is a page-turner from start to finish, a book to revisit. My last thought was whether the title ought to have been "The Ministry of Utmost Unhappiness," as an ode to "The Unconsoled" to whom the author has dedicated her book.

{Published in the 75th Issue of Muse India - Sep/Oct, 2017}

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