Abha Iyengar’s Shrayan is an
Indian fantasy novel that explores the individual’s struggle for both social
and self-acceptance.
Review by Smita Sahay at Women’s Web
All of us have a hidden place within
ourselves, the place of longing and of escape from the dissatisfactions of
life. But is it as easy as it sounds? Abha Iyengar’s first novel, Shrayan, is
the journey of a creature, half human, half animal, through rejection and
self-awareness to self-acceptance. He seeks and struggles to be understood in a
world where he does not belong.
Iyengar liberally dips her quill into
mythology and magic. The book is a fable of sorts; it brings to us a world of
dissatisfied, imperfect characters, humans, semi-humans, or fantastical,
fighting their own battles. Through these characters and their struggles, the
reader learns something about herself too, for instance, learning to make peace
with her unfulfilled desires.
Shrayan, a dweller of the
underground, finds his first friends in snakes and Sapera and discovers dance,
which gives him strength and solace throughout his life. Sapera’s brother
Vishwasghat murders him and sells Shrayan like an animal. Fate rescues him and
he reaches a school. This is where he discovers beauty and love for the first
time. He learns Kshatriyam, a martial arts dance form, and he learns to
read and write. However, due to certain unfortunate circumstances, he is forced
to run away and he battles with his own bestiality. Eventually, he reaches a
place where he finds food, shelter and a job with a baba and his hunchback
companion. But will this last or will Life continue to test him?
Iyengar has brought magic realism and
fantasy together. Shrayan has hooves and fur, but speaks, walks, eats and
dances like a human. He reaches the fantastical land of happiness, where
he meets Nordic beauties, snake-dragon women and a giant named Trishna, which
means hunger. Iyengar brings in Indian arts, in Kshatriyam, mythology, in the
dance drama unfolding the love story between Krishna and Rukmini, philosophy, in
conversations Shrayan has with Lotus, Madira and Manila, and Indian culture, in
kundalini.
The narrative is conversational and
engaging and lots of unexpected plot turns and character appearances keep the
reader immersed. Love takes myriad shapes, and so does sexuality. Fatherhood
recurs in the many relationships that are formed and lost. Most of the
characters are silent and complex with histories, strengths and failings.
However, sometimes the
conversational, chatty narrative takes away from the magic, and some motifs,
such as that of the recurring snake, probably symbolic of something, could be
more plausibly accommodated in the plot. Some character appearances and plot
turns would have been more impactful with a deeper treatment. One also wishes that
some other characters whom Shrayan meets through his journey, show up later and
have more role in the story and his life. A clearer sense of the passage of
time would avoid confusion and make Shrayan more concrete in the reader’s
psyche – his is called “…the body of a young man‘s” at the beginning of
the story, and he is in his early twenties towards the end of it.
Short chapters, easy language and a dramatic narrative
make the book a light read. The speculative fiction and magic take one to far
away journeys. Speculative fiction is an evolving genre in Indian literature in
English. In this book magic, relationships, fate and a semi-human character
come together in a contemporary Indian context, to make you reach into your own
insecurities and imperfections. The next time you worry about your own hooves,
think about how far Shrayan walked on them.
If you want a copy of SHRAYAN, write to me at abhaiyengar@gmail.com
