Book: Simsim
Author: Geet Chaturvedi
Translator: Anita Gopalan
Publisher: Penguin Books
Pages: 236
Price: ₹297 (Hardcover on Amazon)
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Stars!
'Old love is like the veil, part sunk in the ground, part swaying in the air. One can neither wrap it around oneself nor carry it along. Its shadow wavers on the sands of time.'
(From the book)
There's something about the oldness of things and places and people: they nestle numerous stories in their hearts. Simsim is a poignant story of love and loss; of memories, dreams and the wondrous world of books! Lots of books that dance in an old neglected library, and tell a few sections of this story as well.
'What you've lost, you will find again in books.'
There was a young boy called Basar Mal Jetharam Purswani who lived in Larkana, Sindh (now in Pakistan). He loved a girl and called her Jaam (which means guava in Sindhi) because whenever she was around, Basar Mal inexplicably felt the aroma of guava. And there was an ignored Madarsa with a window where yellow flowers bloomed; where they often met in the silent afternoons.
Then the cruelty of partition brought a painful separation. Years later, Basar Mal, in his old library, still dwells in her memories and still feels the aroma of guava.
'Every love is filled with a fragrance.'
Many years apart, in 2007, there's a nameless boy who loves a girl ―Imbello ― in his imagination, and one day, he finds her Imbello behind a shuttered window where yellow flowers bloom right in front of Basar Mal's library. The boy, a non reader, begins to visit Basar Mal's library and thus develops a unique bond with both Basar Mal and those old, soggy books that the old man devotedly cares for.
This story carries a tussle between the ongoing change and that stubborn refusal to adapt to the changes, a deep desire to stay cocooned inside the wraps of a sad, precious past. A fear that emerges before mingling into a new world. Memories of love that is lost, love that seems like a figment of imagination.
We are memory bombs. When we explode, we explode inward.'
The characters are interesting and raw ―Basar Mal, the nameless boy, Jaam, Jalo and the mysterious yellow-faced girl who stood at the shuttered window. Even Dil Khush samose waala.
The story is a little unconventional and the storytelling unique. It's beautifully written and equally beautifully translated. Every chapter reads like a short story itself.
I turned the pages, marvelling at their depth and beauty. The pain of partition, the loss, memories, the changes over time, the nameless boy's complicated relationship with his father…everything is so delicately expressed.
Words are strung together lyrically. The prose is poetic and then there are poems. I know, as a translator, that poems are difficult to translate, but Anita Gopalan has done a fabulous job.
'Black arcs of kohl
hold the dreams of your eyes.
The little kohl that floated out your left eye,
don't you worry about it.
From the black pit of dreams, tell me, has anyone emerged unstained?'
'If ever you remember me,
touch a favourite book
and begin reading it.
A word of love
in any language
will eventually
always bring you to me.'
It is a unique story, gloomy yet refreshing, filled with deep wisdom and beautiful quotes that compel you to pause and ponder. It's exquisite, better to be savored slowly. One of my favourites!
Sharing some more favourites quotes:
'Works of art and literature are an affirmation of our inner strengths. The act of creation is an act of defying death.'
'The politics of power affects them the most who have nothing to do with either politics or power.'
'When all the negativity comes headlong towards us, the verses like an umbrella will shield us.'
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