Eleven years ago, Anita Nair climbed on to the top berth of a ladiescompartment in a train from Bangalore to Madras and discovered an unexpectedworld. Once the door was closed and the blue night lamp switched on, themiddle-aged women began a conversation that riveted the 24-year-old to herberth. It was "a no-holds-barred conversation on mothers-in-law,daughters-in-law, husbands, everything." Their candour, theirsubversiveness, their subtle strength and courage inspired her novel, LadiesCoupe. Excerpts from an interview:
What is it about a train compartment that makes women pour out their souls?
I think it is the confined space and the fact that you are talking to strangers,someone you'll never meet again. It is like a confessional box, you are assuredanonymity. Besides, who ever listens to women, except maidservants perhaps, sowhen they get a chance they really talk.
Why did you choose a theme--women's struggle to get control over their ownlives-- don't you think this has become a little cliched?
No, I am talking of the vast majority of Indian women--the suburban and ruralwomen--who still have little control over their lives. It is a book I wanted towrite very much because it disturbs me: in many ways my life was similar tothese women.I have been criticised for being outdated, but I don't think women'slives have really outgrown these struggles, at least in the South, where I comefrom.
Why is that?
Perhaps it's because of our pre-conditioning. The stories told to us by ourmothers and grandmothers. I remember one story my mother used to keep telling mewhen I was growing up--there was this girl who had got married and was sent backto her parents because she didn't know how to cook! It was a cautionary tale,but I don't ever remember her telling me the importance of things like knowinghow to change a light bulb, for instance.
Can you describe your own background?
I come from a very ordinary middle-class family. My father used to work in theordinance department so we had a metropolitan life, first in Madras and then inBangalore. My mother is a housewife. I was brought up to be a good housewife andnothing more. Taught womanly virtues such as how to serve tea and do embroidery.But then I broke the mould by deciding to marry the boy next door. Because hedid not belong to my caste, the Nairs, it was a problem initially but my parentsaccepted our decision. My cousins often tell me that if it were not for myexample, they would never have the courage to confide to their parents about themen they wanted to marry. So many women just buckle in to pressure from parents.
Are you not afraid of being pigeon-holed as a women's writer with this book?
Yes, of course I am. Which is why I wrote a book about men first, The BetterHalf. I prefer writing about men--they don't pounce on you because you arenot being politically correct in the way women have been doing since I wrotethis book. But I think I have found my niche. I like to write about ordinarypeople and don't want to write about characters larger than life. I'd like to belabelled a writer of literary fiction. I like books like I. Allan Sealy's EverestHotel. It's a wise book and depicts its characters with a certain dignity.All these books with superfantastic creatures and eccentrics I find merelymediocrities disguised as cleverness. I am not eager to show off brilliantwriting techniques. All that stream-of-consciousness and magic realism I keepfor my poetry and my column (in southern Indian edition of Indian Express). Butmy novels I like to keep simple and straight.
The structure you have chosen--of six women narrating their life stories--isa very traditional narrative form, as old as Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and theMahabharata. It shouldn't have posed any problem for you?
On the contrary, I had a lot of difficulty with the structure. I had these sixstories, and I didn't know how to put them together. It was a bit like piecingtogether a patchwork quilt--you have the individual pieces, but how do you makethem into one? At first I thought of setting it in a ladies queue at a railwayreservation office, but somehow it didn't work--how can they exchange longstories while they are standing? Then I hit upon this.
Was it easy to write the individual stories?
No, it was very exhausting because through each of those stories I relived myown rage and despair. I'd write about my character's marriage, for instance, andthen stop and ask myself, Hey, what about me? Why do I have to do everything? Ifelt quite relieved when it was over, actually. But it was a catharsis, now I amat peace with myself. I no longer feel the need to be Princess Zeena, thesuperwoman. I have always been cautious, hanging on always to a Plan B. Now Idon't feel that cautious. I can be myself.
Why is it that there is so little humour in Indian women's writing in general?
As Indians, we don't have a great sense of humour, like the British. We don'tlaugh at ourselves, we laugh at jokes. There is a humour in my book, but it isvery subtle. There is very little room in a woman's life to laugh aboutsomething.
What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
The food. When I was a little girl in Madras, we had these Brahmin neighboursacross the landing. They didn't cook much, but sometimes, when they had guests,there would be all these wonderful smells wafting to our doorstep--kesar halwaand all that food I've written about. I so wished they would invite me over.Then I liked writing of the illicit pleasures of eating a boiled egg. I am not avegetarian, but it was good to get the taste and feel and sensations ofsomething so ordinary as a boiled egg.
