It was a boring and rainy evening on a Friday in Caracas. Maybe it was the fact that my Internet connection had gone kaput or that I was seriously not in the mood to watch any more Television. Either way, I found the book, ‘Man Eater of Malgudi’ at the back of my tie closet (Yes! I used to have one. Sigh.) which had somehow made its way into my abode all the way from India. But somehow, thanks to the various diversions today’s world throws so generously at us, I hadn’t managed to find that precious little window of time where I could finally open one of RK Narayan’s many classics.
As is the case with many books, the title has no literal meaning. As in, there isn’t really a tiger or lion or any other man eater in this story. This, you realize, after having thumbed off a good dozen pages while taking the journey of leading a simple printer in Malgudi (Narayan’s famous + fictitious town) – Nataraj. He lives in his grandmother’s ancestral home and has a good rapport with locals who come by to get their orders completed or other motor mouths who basically come to drive him nuts with their meaningless noon banter. The prominent ones in this close knit group are Sen, an aspiring politician who doesn’t necessarily condone Nehru politics and Sastri, an elderly gentleman and Nataraj’s assistant at the printing unit. With things looking like this in walks a hurricane called Vasu – a taxidermist, or so he claims. His boorish ways and overwhelmingly overbearing demeanor doesn’t suit Nataraj one bit. Vasu demands that a 100 visiting cards be printed with his name on them and also bullies his way into the attic in Nataraj’s residence. Maybe it is the fact that a man with such a non-stereotypical attitude comes to Malgudi or maybe it is that maybe at some level, Nataraj secretly envies the public display of confidence Vasu projects, he goes along with the new comer.
A wrinkle is thrown into this concoction when Nataraj slowly starts to realize that Vasu is in no mood to pay him for the cards he got printed. In fact, every time Nataraj, cowed by the ridiculously goon like attitude of Vasu, so much as attempts a conversation in that direction, a distraction takes place and Nataraj ends up swallowing his intent. This, Nataraj deduces, is why Vasu should be called the ‘man eater’. Dangerous and unpredictable. Someone impossible to be with for long periods of time.
Things continue to be this way until the day Nataraj’s friend – a poet – decides to publish his work. To commemorate this event Nataraj organizes a grand procession with the author atop a dear temple Elephant. It is then that Nataraj comes to know that Vasu, hiding behind a silent and dark window, plans to kill the elephant for his taxidermy reasons. Nataraj now gets ready for a showdown with Vasu only to find him dead when he gets to the attic. What happens then? Is Nataraj framed for Vasu’s death? What does the police say about this after the autopsy? Can Rangi, whom Vasu had befriended quite well in his tenure, help in some way to solve the death of this man eater? These are questions that find the light of truth towards the end.
The consistent comparison of Vasu to a mythological Rakshasa (demon), sheds some light on the point Narayan is trying to make in this book. Vasu, despite the obnoxiousness he vehemently portrays, is still someone to loath and admire. His absolute conviction to laugh at things like religion and faith is something that makes you wonder. His histrionics of patriotism that he had displayed during the Independence movement makes you ponder. Nataraj, on the other hand, represents the hopelessly decent and “good” people in society. Through their genuine affection to things they hold dear, they try to make others happy. Their selflessness lies in their adherence to the basics of simple living. Something which is quite in contrast with Vasu’s self absorbed and selfish attitude.
‘The man eater of Malgudi’ is a great case study to observe human behavior in the backdrop of a simple town. This could easily be any town anywhere in the world which is why its conclusions are quite universal. A theme I found very close to myself. A must read from the master story teller.
..ShaKri..
