A few years ago, I first read Jhumpa Lahiri’s beloved novel “The Namesake.” Having found it to be a very endearing exploration of cross-cultural identity, I became curious to read more by her. With this Short Stop series, I will be taking a close look at her debut short story collection “Interpreter of Maladies.” Having won The Pulitzer Prize, I am curious to see if she is able to convey in a matter of pages what made her novel so substantial. Will this be a work that captures the complexities of being of two lands, where you’re in search of a home on two continents? Over the next few entries, I hope to discover what has made her one of the most essential modern writers and discover more of what she has to say about the human experience.
The journey of “A Real Durwan” is one of the slightest narratives that Lahiri has explored so far. Along with being the shortest tale in this anthology, the trajectory for protagonist Boori Ma is so straightforward that one would hesitate to think there was any greater point. This woman who might be crazy was kicked out of a housing complex because she may have ripped out somebody’s basin. There’s no evidence to suggest she did, but there’s nothing to the contrary. It’s a story not unlike the opener “A Temporary Matter” that finds Lahiri beautifully weaving in a greater metaphor underneath trivial detail. The stories that Boori Ma shares may not enhance the story, but for those willing to believe she destroyed the basin, they are the last straw. More than that, it’s a class struggle story using as much material to condemn as the people own. It’s rather brilliant.
When I started this entry, I had been convinced that Boori Ma was potentially crazy. While I know better than to outright condemn a character, the way that Lahiri establishes her is rather suspicious. Her job at this complex is to sweep the floors. From the sound of it, she doesn’t actually have a room there, instead drags her bed around behind her. She does an immaculate job and nobody can complain. However, nobody is entirely sure who she is beyond this. The one consistent fact is that she moved there following The Partition where Hindus were exiled from Muslim lands. One person thinks she’s the landowner while another thinks she is mourning her family. Whatever the case may be, she ends every anecdote with the story’s refrain “Believe me.”
This didn’t necessarily convince me that she was crazy. However, the scene that followed the brief introduction convinced me that, at best, she needed mental health care. She is an older woman who has a weary personality. This is because she can’t sleep at night. When talking to resident Mrs. Dalal, she asks for help exploring what she believes to be mites who have been biting her in her sleep. Dalal is unable to see what Boori Ma is talking about. It’s here that you begin to think that maybe her perception isn’t as reliable as we once assumed. While it’s a byproduct of living in a lower-income neighborhood, her mind is slipping away. For what it’s worth, Dalal symbolizes compassion when she says that she’ll buy Boori Ma a new bed.
To give a greater picture of Boori Ma, I want to touch on what she does when she’s not sweeping. She is a welcome resident of the complex. Consider a friendly maid who is welcomed into every room because of her reputation. She helps to clean up messes after the children’s play. When she’s given treats as a reward, she chooses not to sit on the floor but eats them in the doorway. There is still distance even in these shared moments, but it gives the sense that everyone likes Boori Ma. Maybe they genuinely like the service she provides or they are sympathetic to this struggling woman. After all, she’s sleeping on an old bed in the hallway. It’s not exactly the safest place in the world.
An important thing to note is that while Boori Ma may be the most disadvantaged here, everyone in this story experiences some level of struggle. Their stories aren’t necessarily given a lot of space here, but they come into play as things continue. Boori Ma has a moldy old bed that she thinks gives her mites. She also has a skeleton key where she keeps precious heirlooms. This symbolizes a connection to an affluent past. She holds onto the memories for comfort. It’s here that she shares thoughts not too dissimilar from everyone else who lives in this complex.
Remember Mrs. Dalal who promised to get Boori Ma a new bed? By the end of this story, she hasn’t. This is for many reasons, notably that her husband Mr. Dalal has gotten a basin. In a clever piece of symbolism, this happens the same day that Boori Ma’s old bed gets so dampened that it turns to yogurt. She is reduced to even less, forced to sleep on the uncomfortable floor. The basin is, in theory, a great idea. It’s beautification for a complex that lacks any distinguishing features. However, it’s also where the compassion begins to chip away. Whereas everyone used to share and be friendly, envy takes root as they wonder why they couldn’t have a basin. Why couldn’t it be shared with everyone else? The one small piece of vanity quickly becomes a point of contention.
An interesting parallel is that the voice of reason is another resident named Mr. Chatterjee. While he can be considered wise in comparison to those around him, there’s still one flaw. Because of how limited resources are, he’s also not that well educated. It’s said that he hasn’t picked up a newspaper in years. There’s a disconnect from the larger world and thus is likely to be less informed by things like The Partition and develop empathy for this woman who is sleeping on the floor. Outside of any personal connection, he’s left having to determine the law based on instinct. Like Boori Ma and her skeleton key, he’s holding onto what little he has. The only difference is because he has actual housing, he has one thing she doesn’t: advantage.
Things go from bad to worse for Boori Ma. The financial burden of the basin means that she hasn’t gotten her bed. Given that she starts the story sleep-deprived and in pain, it’s likely that things are quickly deteriorating. Even as she performs routine tasks for people in her complex, there’s this ascending distrust. Suddenly people question the different stories she’s told. Do they actually believe that she’s had a hard life? Why would they have any reason to doubt her? The best answer is that she symbolizes their greatest fear. Because of the lower income setting, they could end up like Boori Ma. She has nothing going on. Her purpose in life is to push a broom across a floor. It’s not much of a life. It symbolizes their own depressing future.
The ending is where things could get a bit dicey for the reader. When The Dalals leave, Boori Ma is tasked with sticking around the complex rooftop to protect their belongings. Growing bored with her snacks, she leaves the complex to buy treats from a nearby shop. When she returns, everyone is mad. The basin is destroyed. Predictably, The Dalals are upset. Meanwhile, Mr. Chatterjee suggests that Boori Ma is to blame. After all, she has expressed disgust with the small piece of vanity. It may contradict her own symbolism regarding the skeleton key, but everyone has a shared sense of animosity toward her. Instead of finding a rational answer, they toss her out. Somewhere along the line, someone has stolen her skeleton key as well.
What are Mr. Chatterjee and The Dalals’ big answers? They need to hire a real durwan. This translates, in English, to a doorman. Whereas I had started the story assuming that Boori Ma was said durwan, I guess that she is now nothing more than a nuisance. Having that security gives a sense of protection from others stealing and destroying their belongings. Given that Boori Ma has fled The Partition, she is used to danger. Even then, she’s an old woman who didn’t have much to offer. Why not, as they say, respect your elders? Also, it’s interesting that they can complain about the financial burden of a basin while potentially paying someone to stand around as a durwan.
Like “When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine,” I think that The Partition is important as a back story but isn’t necessary to understand the general story. The separation from a homeland displaces Boori Ma, forcing her to notice everyone else’s happy life. Even without a lot of belongings, they are able to survive. There’s a shared community. It’s only when luxury comes in that things begin to change. Suddenly her goodwill isn’t enough. Everyone becomes jealous and paranoid, realizing that hard work is not something that is conveniently transferrable.
The question becomes did Boori Ma destroy the basin? As the story ends, she asks once again “believe me.” Given how many variations of her origin story that we’ve heard, I think it’s difficult to believe what is considered the truth. We can believe that she went to the store and a vandal entered. However, there is still enough time missing that she might have done it out of vindictiveness. After all, Mrs. Dalal owes her a bed. When is she going to get the bed? If you look at the haves and have nots too much, you’re going to form some level of bitterness.
On the surface, there isn’t a lot going on in “A Real Durwan.” An old woman gets kicked out of a housing complex for breaking a basin. It’s one of the sadder stories in the anthology. It’s also the least likely to have an optimistic second act. Even then, Lahiri has a gift for making the reader question their own bias and understand what it’s like to live with limited means. When everyone is fending for themselves, how soon will compassion slip away? All it took was a basin to throw these tenants into disarray. It’s the little things that cause the biggest problems. It doesn’t take a lot of pages for Lahiri to understand the pitfalls of lower-class living. This doesn’t mean it’s any lesser. If anything, it asks for more from the reader and I think it succeeds in achieving that goal.
Coming Up Next: “Sexy”
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