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Literary Review
Laments of innocence
THAT writing fiction isn't the monkish occupation it used to be is demonstrated by Days of Innocence, a book published as a festschrift to Ruskin Bond, who wryly confesses in the afterword that until recently he thought a festschrift implied "some sort of orgy". Much more mundanely, a festschrift is a book in which academics pay homage to a retiring guru by publishing academic articles allied to the guru's field. Namita Gokhale's creative interpretation of the concept resulted in a book, dedicated to Ruskin Bond, of short stories about childhood and the loss of innocence.
Ms. Gokhale organised a Writer's Retreat, in which a bunch of predominantly Delhi-based writers and journalists as well as the publisher of the book went off for a weekend to Mussoorie to commune with nature, and Bond with each other, bringing about a "spontaneous outpouring of creativity" — never mind that spontaneity would have struck most as a contradiction in the circumstances.
The resulting book is a peculiarly narcissistic artefact with arch comments on the contributors ("Soon she was everybody's Dream Girl!") and photographs of the participants with self-indulgent captions: "Pensive, smiling, dreamy, observant — the expressions vary as the thought processes are set in motion."
Most of the stories are about babalog, in haveli or bungalow, luxuriously experiencing growing pains and disillusionment. There is a nicely creepy tale by Ravi Shankar that redefines innocence; Bulbul Sharma's "The Sanctuary" captures the loss and fear inherent in growing up. The remaining participants, Sunny Singh, Kanika Gahlaut, Binoo. K. John, Pavan Verma, Pramod Kapoor, Manju Kak and others, are made to sing for their suppers too. The stories are beautifully stitched together by their mediocrity.
Days of Innocence, Namita Gokhale Editions, p.143, Rs. 225.
Anuradha Roy
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