A review of ‘Parshati’ A novel By- Soumyanetra



Navamalati is a creative person writing poetry, short stories, reviews…
Navamalati Neog Chakraborty reviews Soumyanetra‘s bilingual (English-Bengali) novel Parshati, published by Notion Press in 2023. The review explores the emotional depth of the protagonist’s journey, societal prejudices, and the complexities of marriage and familial bonds in 21st-century India.
Despite the fact that we are now in the 21st century, the complex threads of marriages at times become for a couple a difficult time to bear with. Soumyanetra has in her debut novel, Parshati, dwelt on this uncomfortable truth of life. Being bilingual, the novel sounds very contemporary. A novel of our milieu, the irony of the very fact that we who believe that we as a society have advanced ought to pin back our ears to hear where we have in fact reached. We have not at all shaken away our prejudices when it comes to matters of the fair sex. It is thus that legal quibbling is gaining ground. Now most of us are in the maze of an urbane society, well-spoken in a couple of languages. It is the very way we converse, at times in our native tongue and then flow in very naturally to express ourselves in English. The novel expressly speaks about Parshati, the protagonist is a graceful and highly educated young lady, who had lost her father to lung cancer many years back and she and her mother, had therefore grown closer and emotionally dependent on each other. This is the essential human truth in today’s small and nuclear families. After her marriage, it was expected that her mother who was all alone will be a close part of Parshati’s family. She will not be dependent on her son-in-law, as she herself holds a high post and is financially independent. She would just live on in her own establishment, with her daughter being near to her. In India for whatever reason, such a thing is frowned at.
As the years advanced, Parshati was blessed with a daughter Oli. Her husband of course had ways of expressing his intolerance towards his mother-in-law, by ignoring and disrespecting her in umpteen number of ways with a word or a gesture. It hurt visibly and having a quarrel over such issues visibly too, was not the done thing. Nevertheless, life went ahead with unpleasant moments, and years moved ahead. However, a time dawned when her mother was unwell and in the ICU and put on ventilation. Parshati found herself all alone and emotionally shaken. As she moved in and out of ventilation support, her mother’s condition grew serious. The pulmonologist and the nephrologist had differences of opinion, and Parshati was all alone unable to have anyone by her side. She could only suffer in silence in her desperation. The trauma of a daughter who could do nothing save providing the best medical care, and a heart brimming with love, found that that was not enough. An understanding mate by her side, who loved her mother equally would have made all the difference. But that was not to be. Finance was not her problem, but emotional sustenance was. You need a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand patting your back, a voice to comfort. What any wife would need. Marriage is not all about routinely going to bed and having children. A couple needed to be friends, respecting, empathetic and compassionate.
Parshati speaks about the rigamarole of such sad days. All alone, despite her job and the need to manage the household and look after a tender school-going daughter, she ran from pillar to post in her lonely journey. She finds in a much elderly gentleman, Dr Dashorathi, a senior official in the US embassy, a friend, with whom she could at least speak out her mind. Speaking out one’s mind is at times a big psychological necessity. Society may frown about such ‘familiarity’ but that was just a decent social bond. Like her namesake Draupadi, Parshati had found in Dr Dashorathi a friend like Lord Krishna with whom she could discuss the authors and books they read and exchange small talk on various issues, that help people a lot to stabilise one’s mind in a society where no one had time or even the eagerness to converse. They would therefore write to each other, and their letters were like a fresh breath that sustained Parshati’s emotional balance. There was an openness of fine expression as well as respect for each other.
Soumyanetra has in her novel bilingual style, had Parshati express herself freely and without filter. The vacuum that was created within her when her mother was seriously unwell, was akin to a generally dormant volcano, that has no holding back when it erupts. Her mother she loved greatly, Dr Dashorathi she worshipped for his knowledge and judgement. She noted small facts about his humanitarian ways and was greatly touched by them. For example, the very fact that he had given up wearing watches altogether after he had lost the one his grandfather had given him, touched her sentiments. That was the depth of his feelings for his grandfather. No other watch can ever replace the watch that his grandfather had given him with such love. Parshati’s poem Red, has an inner message that states…
A king, a god
My king, my god
And we could cruise over time
And space
And destinies
After her mother passed away, Parshati grew numb with pain…Boro kothin dirgho path. Dashorathi was to her then like Durga puja…the puja actually is quite short, but think of the days and months that go into thinking about it, preparing for it, dwelling in its happiness and joy. The very thought itself sufficed and filled her heart. She could not accept the truth that her mother was no more…Shonman nei bole tumi to prithibi cherei chole gele. The two and a half months of her mother’s hospitalisation, when she came so close to the medical world, had driven many a nail into her flesh…Ei patient aar koto din tanbe? Or, Erom blood diye prop up kore aar koto din cholbe? Those words, those expressions, hurt visibly. There was a total dearth of a kindly word, or maybe the doctors had grown so used to such harsh reality, that they didn’t understand an attendant’s feelings. They were for them, just attendants. Not a daughter or a son.
Parshati had taken a lot of cruelty in her stride. Her husband’s sly way of leaving behind the bag that contained her parents’ portraits when they had to shift house, though he did carry all the other bags, did hurt visibly. Small ways, prick deeper. Situations from the past, when he did speak harshly to her mother, rushed back to Parshati’s mind. Circumstances make people vulnerable. Why can a man not understand his wife’s sentiments? Even Dashorathi had realised that the world will not accept or understand Parshati’s respectable and emotional dependency on him, though he was a mere guiding star and a solace. Is it because it was essentially a male world? He wouldn’t like her to be in any sticky situation and he therefore began to distance himself from her, for her good. He respected Parshati and was concerned.
Times in the very society we live in has changed, and women are now educated and are financially independent. But how can they sustain their emotional needs if the very man they marry is so very indifferent. A family needs emotional bondings. Is it always a question of the husband’s parents being loved and respected. Why can the man not accept his wife’s parents as his own with respect.
Parshati places a lot of questions on society’s platter. A very sensitive novel of our twenty first century, one of its kind, the character of Parshati heave under the impact of social maladjustment, where neither can the wife’s sick mother expect love, care and respect from her son-in-law; nor can Parshati befriend Dr Dashorathi. Women are always there, nailed on to the cross and side-stepping this issue is not a way out. Can the knots that a daughter ties with her maiden home from her birth, be rent apart by time and a marriage.
‘Parshati’
A bilingual (English-Bengali) novel
By- Soumyanetra
Published by notionpress.com, 2023
Price Rs 349
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Navamalati is a creative person writing poetry, short stories, reviews and translating books. She finds that to retrieve one's precious moments in life one needs to teach, write, paint and edit. They are the ramp where she show-cases life's realities. The lights switched on are her expression. Poetry fuels her with energy in her journey of life as she articulates her incisive thoughts. She translates with an organically natural flow and finds the response of words, overwhelming as they have a physical chemistry. She is widely published with a huge body of work to her credit. She has a numerous book to her credit. She has 12 collections of poems, 1 anthology of short stories, 3 translated works from Bangla and 13 translated works from Assamese. A relentless traveller, she has with her the might of the Brahmaputra and the name of Sankaradeva! Vasudhaiva Kutumbakum is the very root of her being.