Stories of the True by Jeyamohan translated by Priyamvada

Stories of the True : Translated from the Tamil by Priyamvada by ஜெயமோகன் [Jeyamohan]
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Fascinating stories and the translation is par excellence. Many of the tales are based on real persons – both local as well as foreign.
As a Palliative Care Physician, I have been dealing with cancer patients with intractable pain and spiritual suffering and existential issues. Thus, pain perception is a subject that fascinates me.

‘To observe pain is a great practice. No meditation can equal it. Pain reveals everything – who we are, how our mind and intellect function, all of it. What is pain? It’s a state that’s just a little different from our normal state of being. But our mind yearns to go back to that erstwhile normalcy … that’s the problem with being in pain. Half the pain will disappear if we begin to observe it. Of course, there are severe pains too. Of the kind that goes to show that man isn’t so great after all and he is just another animal.’ ...
‘Jeyamohan, the pain’s like an infant, now. It squats on the hip, its nose dripping with snot and wails non-stop. It wakes up suddenly at night and troubles the life out of me. But it is my pain. It has emerged from my body. So, isn’t it natural that I will feel affection for it? Let the wretched thing be. We will make a fine human being of it, all right?’

About suffering

The curd’s being churned in a pot with a churner. The pot is our body. The curd is the life within. And the churning rod is the suffering. Suffering throws life about every which way. Have you seen how curd looks when it’s being churned? It will gather to one side, froth and rise, and threaten to leap out any second. At once the churner will chase after the curd. Afraid that it’ll be kicked out, the curd will rush to the other side. Not moment’s rest can it afford. Foaming and frothing, huffing and puffing … the great suffering man is put through is much the same. The turbulence of it all- that is torment...
When you churn suffering, you get clarity.

His searingly vivid description of the caste-based brutality and inequality

…to be given a name was a luxury in itself. Since his father was born dark-skinned, he was called Karuthaan. His younger brother had prominent lips like the sundeli mouse, and so he was named Sundan. The younger sister was somewhat fair-skinned, therefore, she was Vellakutty. It was indeed like naming dogs. Not the ones that belonged to caste landowners. They were well named. I am talking about stray dogs...
Each such worker-caste group had a leader of its own. Within his egg-sized dominion the leader was king, with unassailable authority to kill and bury too. As for the rest, they ranked lower than even the mud beneath his feet...
Every person on the estate was assigned a place in its descending chain of command. Spit wove its way through, adding definition to the rungs of hierarchy. If the overseer spat on the wage slave, the slave could not wipe the spit off until the overseer was out of sight. If the juice from chewed betel leaf found its way from the infuriated Kariyastha on to the newcomer he had to beat it with a submissive smile. The Kariyastha had to be ready to offer a spittoon to the Karainairs if they so much as pursed their lips with a mouthful of betel leaves. And the royalty may pay a visit to his home, the Karianair himself had to follow them with a spittoon in hand.

The yeoman work done by Christian missionaries in colonial India (for that matter, even in the present day) in the field of health and education is nullified in their zest for conversion of Hindus to their faith. They will especially target the vulnerable – whether due to caste exclusion, poverty or illness – and offer inducements of money, housing, jobs or spiritual salvation. I have encountered numerous such cases where terminally ill cancer patients are tempted with salvation and even freedom from pain and suffering if they convert to Christianity; patients gasping for breath or in a delirium are not spared! Here is a poor woman saddled with multiple children and whose husband is on his deathbed in a Mission hospital after a fall from a palm tree

Then why don’t all of you convert? If you convert, you will find a way through life. I will recommend this boy to the London Missionary Society. I will ask them to give him a job here, at the hospital…The nurse-amma spoke up now. ‘Look here, Sayyib’s saying that if you convert and join the vedham – the way of Christ – Sayyib will have this fellow admitted in a school and get him an education. He’ll also make some arrangement for your well-being. You and your children will have kanji to drink. What do you say?’ she asked loudly.

Elephant Doctor and The Meal Tally are the best stories.

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