If you want to understand how to become better allies to people with disabilities, then join us at Embracing All Abilities: Including People with Disabilities at Work.
Jahnavi Barua’s Rebirth is a haunting story of one woman’s relationship with her unborn child, through the journey of her pregnancy.
Review By Unmana Datta
It seems so much more difficult to review a book you loved than a book you had mixed feelings for. Balancing pros and cons is much trickier when you can find no cons!
Rebirth is a novel with an unusual narrative premise: the narrator is a pregnant woman talking to her unborn child. This unusual framing device helps to establish that Kaberi, the protagonist, is so alone that she has no one more sentient to talk to and no more meaningful relationship to hold on to. It also means that the entire novel takes place within the space of Kaberi discovering that she is pregnant to before she gives birth, thus constraining this meandering, almost timeless narrative inside the span of a few months.
As the entire book is written in Kaberi’s voice, the language gets jarring at times. The narrator isn’t erased to make you comfortable; Kaberi is undeniably present in each word, daring you to judge her life. I am full of admiration at the author’s skill – the framing device of Kaberi speaking to her foetus never falters; any uncomfortable disclosure is always acknowledged by the narrator. When towards the end of the book, Kaberi reveals a shocking secret, it doesn’t seem unconvincing that the unpleasant fact was hidden away for so long. It is more than believable that Kaberi doesn’t want to say it outright to her baby, that she instead blurts the truth out to her mother in a vulnerable moment.
I found the book very satisfyingly slow and devoid of action or conversation. Much of the “action” is Kaberi reminiscing in solitude, talking to the child whom she can now lavish all her frustrated affection on. Kaberi spends days in quiet, barely speaking to the affectionate daily help, barely leaving the house for weeks. She might be depressed, or she might just be someone who doesn’t need much company, and either explanation is equally satisfying.
When, a little into the story, Kaberi’s husband comes back from his lover and unapologetically demands that she host a dinner for his friends, Kaberi obediently swings into action. You wonder how, and why, she is so undemanding, so willing to please. Barua offers much of the answer in Kaberi’s intermittent nostalgic musings.
Kaberi often thinks of her best friend, Joya, whom she idealizes, you slowly realize, as much because of the place she had in Kaberi’s life and the fiery personality Kaberi admired as because of her death; making her in a way, inviolable. No one now present in Kaberi’s life gets quite the same adulation.
But this isn’t a novel where little happens apart from the slow reveal of the characters’ personalities. Even though the pace is measured and slow, much does happen in the book, and the effect of it all on Kaberi’s personality is considerable. From being submissive, almost apathetic, in the beginning, she gains a confidence that leaves the reader hoping that she takes control of her life.
Read the book for the beautiful descriptions of Assam (since I, like Kaberi, grew up there, I was overcome with nostalgia through those paragraphs), for the skillful writing, and for the haunting story of a woman who veers between being irrevocably weak and intensely strong.
Publishers: Penguin Books
If you’re planning to purchase Jahnavi Barua’s Rebirth, do consider buying it through this Women’s Web affiliate link at Flipkart. We get a small share of the proceeds – every little bit will help us continue bringing you the content you like!
Unmana is interested in gender, literature and relationships, and writes about everything she's interested in. She lives in, and loves, Bombay. read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Some time ago, Imtiaz Ali and Hansal Mehta respectively spoke of biopics of Madhubala and Meena Kumari. But do these biopics do justice to these women?
I recently came across a Reddit thread that discussed the fact that filmmaker Imtiaz Ali had announced making a biopic of Madhubala, and I wanted to explore this a little.
Of late, biopics based on the lives of beautiful but fatefully tragic women such as Lady Diana and Marilyn Monroe have created waves. Closer at home, we hear about the possibilities of biopics being made on the lives of Meena Kumari and Madhubala as well. These were hugely famous, stunningly beautiful women who were the heartthrobs of millions; who died tragically young.
A new Gallup poll reveals that up to 40% of Indian women are angry compared to 27% of men. This is a change from 29% angry women and 28% angry men 10 years ago, in 2012.
Indian women are praised as ‘susheel’, virtuous and to be emulated when they are obedient, ready to serve others and when they put the wishes of others before their own. However, Indian women no longer seem content to be in the constrictive mould that the patriarchy has fashioned for them. A Gallup poll looked at the issue of women’s anger, their worry, stress, sadness and found that women consistently feel these emotions more than men, particularly in India.
Image source
Please enter your email address