Conversations with Aurangzeb: A review

1. Let me start where I am. I have not completely read the book. But, I thought let me do this piecemeal. I once, saw Charu’s talk about a book “Bahirathiyin Madhiyam” by Ba. Venkatesan and he pointed out that whenever he saw the protagonist’s struggle to be understood he saw himself. Everybody who saw his art saw nothing. They just saw lines and nothing else. In that plight of being not seen, Charu saw himself. Someone relegated to dark corners of society. Whose work which means more than world to him, sent to the depths of oblivion by the masses. Who is forever misunderstood or unseen. Is it just a coincidence he is writing about an Emperor who is one of the misunderstood and hated (unjustly? – a lot of wrongdoings pointed towards him are not something that is specific to him) without being given a proper chance of consideration by the masses? Does he again see himself in a being who wants to be seen for who he is and given a fair trial in a world who has already passed a judgment on him? Would that be the reason that propelled Charu to give a chance as Mark Antony to the wounds of dead Caesar? It is once said, every piece of writing is a memoir. These are not facts that I am writing right now but my experience. Bodhi tree did not make Buddha. But Buddha’s enlightenment made Bodhi tree. Why is fiction fought over when it is nothing but made-up things? Why does it matter? Why do people get crazy when it does not align with their life and morals? Why seek your reality in a device which ultimately is… not real? As any good actor’s job is to sell his act, to be true to the falseness that binds him to the viewer. To sell a narrative. Lot of postmodern works tries to subvert this by making the narrative structures obvious, bringing them to the foreground or making the narrative too fantastical that it is contrasting the very nature of reality. It sells a narrative that it is selling a narrative. Charu brings another layer to this in much of his fiction – he writes about the writer himself. Lots of references of his life and his fiction a shadow of his life. It is impossible to know in the scattered narrative – the distinction between the reality and fiction blurs. It is still there. The prologue has nothing about titular character but about finding what is the right words to start this novel that is currently being read! We are led through the events in the author’s life and discussions with the editor about what has to be done. But I don’t know if the plot would lend itself to this when the novel continues, since, when Aurangzeb talks, we know that it is not true but fiction but again it is a real historical figure, who is so meticulously researched. But it is an exciting artistic fun, nonetheless. Would it have been different if it is not written in an episodic way? Since, it is written as a task to be read for the people in an app that has published works of many authors. Cause, the thing that is stimulating when read piecemeal might just become unfitting when read together as a single piece of work. Excuse me for the really weird comparison, but I have seen this in translation of manga to anime particularly when it is done frame by frame. The problem is they are written for weekly runs, and they should have dialogues even when it is about action because you keep people occupied with such things when it is rendered on quickly drawn black and white boxes and published. It has to fit in 20 pages. And it should end in a cliffhanger – again and again, so the next issue will be bought. I do not dare say it is such – this is a formidable work of fiction. But lending to the interest of the current page is visible. Since, I have not read the original runs – I cannot comment on what has changed or left the same in the novel form. I will chug along for now.

2. Almost half of it now. It takes time to read an English book. Particularly, one that involves just so many pages of a 400-year-old soul. Great that it did not go the ‘Mason & Dixon’ route (Nothing against M&D. I loved as much as I could read (70 and so pages). But, a novel about ancient voyage in Renaissance era English is hard to go on for a dumb wit.) Let me get the first thing out of the way – prologues. This book has 5 prologues! Apart from the first prologue about the author pondering about how to start the book – others were… mildly amusing? The aim was to set the rules for what the book could be, laying out the framework of the fantastical fiction. I guess, the aim was to dwell on the cultural shock one would experience when they land in an age much farther away from the world of their own – particularly wondering about the decadence of modern age. The results, while page turning, never takes us to places that we don’t expect, which Charu is always known for – deriving wild experience and shocking perspectives even from mundane circumstances of a man. But, once the ball gets going – it is a gripping ride. What we are to experience is confessions, musings, reflections of a man who weary of the worlds and times. It is almost formidable how aware he is. He repeats, sometimes in defense, sometimes in exhaustion, again and again, towards the judgment of his people, time and history – why he is not a cruel, bloodthirsty, terrible man. He is not. But somehow, he lost himself to his own awareness. He lost his morality to his own discipline. His monologues and speeches are so convincing, articulate and sensitive. It defines him. He could never be home. Banished from home to rule over faraway places, he is hoarding in his heart a solitude, bravery, discipline, fear of god and certain mindless violence. He had and could trust only himself. And novel is really what it says – conversations with this warrior, who is fighting even beyond his end. A sprawling epic that darts across the pages of Indian history examining him against any other person who came **before** and **after** him. This novel is a harbinger in that sense. How even a well-meaning man, sometimes can become a demon. He is not an evil man because he is, but he accepts the terms the evil seeks as very own fabric of his reality and rationalizes them. It might be the only reason he could survive. Hard to argue with him. I think, from our times, it is easy to look back at him and these rulers and call them sick and barbaric. But it took a certain sickness to survive those times, as we require certain other sicknesses to survive our time. When any deviance from this path is either death or loss of throne would any 20th century man have chosen otherwise? This is a story, how times, circumstances, chances and even his very own consciousness can make him choose his path to be the one who will be remembered as a heartless monster. A tragic hero who could never see his own tragedy.

Sivachalapathy