Only the Eyes are Mine: At the very beginning of Usha Alexander's debut novel, Sita, the central character makes the quiet observation described in the title of the book. Looking at herself in the mirror when she is old and sick, she glances back at her whole life lived on two continents and recognizing nothing of her youthful self, Sita declares, "Only the eyes are mine." I am not sure what the author meant to convey in this sentence. To me, it meant that no matter what the travails, disappointments and compromises of the life lived, if we can look back with clarity and take its true measure, we can be at peace with ourselves.
Only the Eyes are Mine is the story of Sita, spanning the long journey from her illiterate and poor girlhood in a small town in South India to a relatively sophisticated and comfortable old age in San Francisco, USA. Sita was a master weaver in her youth, dazzling customers with her artistry and adventurous leaps of fancy at the loom. Alexander tells Sita's story much in the same spirit. She weaves the circumstances of Sita's complex life and her secrets over the length of the book until a fuller picture emerges. The story line moves back and forth between the present and the past - between her new home and the old.
In the middle of her life, Sita moves to the US at her brother Babu's request when she finds herself alone in India. After the sudden death of Babu's wife in an accident, she assumes the role of a surrogate mother to his children, Meera and Ravi. She is a perfect guardian for her motherless wards, patient, comforting and attentive to their needs while hiding some terrible secrets of her own.
The impending wedding of her niece Meera to a "suitable" Indian doctor is the backdrop of the novel. Sita and Babu are elated with the match and see a bright future for their niece / daughter with the ambitious and successful young man. Meera goes along with the "arrangement" at the behest of her elders. Her own younger brother Ravi has doubts about the decision as do some of her close friends. Meera too feels some anxiety but keeps it hidden from her family. During the run up to the wedding, the story unfolds through Sita's ruminations on her past life. She is transported to the days of her own marriage as a child bride. We learn the details of her coming of age, her unorthodox married life and her passion for weaving which becomes a substitute for other unfulfilled desires. We also see her anger, bitterness and frustrations that subsequently lead her down a reckless path of several broken social taboos, one of them quite unforgivable, in my opinion. Sita's decisions to flout custom and convention lead finally to an inevitable tragedy. Although the event is never again mentioned by her or others, Sita must live with its memory for the rest of her life.
It is interesting to note that Meera's father and aunt want her to have a predictable and safe life which both see as a prescription for "happiness." Yet both elders, particularly Sita, made some rather dangerous and unconventional choices in search of their own happiness. The author, born and brought up in the US of Indian parents and currently living in the San Francisco area, paints a far more convincing picture of life in rural south India than she does of the local American scene which remains pallid in comparison. Sita is the central figure in the novel and she remains so through out the narrative. The author focuses on her and so do we. The numerous other characters that surround her or float in and out of the story appear a bit two dimensional - their angst, aspirations and desperation do not etch the reader's mind as deeply as Sita's tribulations.
Only the Eyes are Mine is a book about a willful woman struggling to define herself in her own eyes - through her art, her relationships and in the end as a peacemaker within her surrogate family. At a secondary level, it is also the age old story of striking a fine balance between roots and wings that all older folks must carefully weigh when it comes to their children's lives. Our children surely are symbols of our hope but they are not the vessels for realizing our unfulfilled dreams. Their eyes too are their own.
Ruchira,
You've just persuaded me to move this book up in my to-read list. Off to amazon.com!
Posted by: Sujatha | March 05, 2007 at 03:36 PM