Bane of old age. Review on Family Matters - Rohinton Mistry

Family Matters by Rohinton Mistry is a heartwarming saga of a Bombay based Parsi family in the Nineties, evoking mixed reactions. Since the story is of a middleclass family in a metro, it easily finds place in average readers’ heart that can aptly identify with all the ups and downs of everyday mundane life. Besides an insight into rich culture and traditions of Parsi lifestyle, the novel also offers an unmistakable humane touch that can be very well generalized to any caste, creed or religion of the present days. All this in a fascinating simplistic style of writing.

Seventy-Nine years old Nariman Vakeel, suffering from Parkinson’s disease and later on with a broken ankle, is the main protagonist around whom the story builds up. His middle-aged stepchildren, Jal and Coomy Contractor, cunningly shrug off their responsibility of nursing him, by dumping Nariman at his biological daughter, Roxana’s place. Initially welcoming, the Chenoys who are barely making their ends meet, gradually find Nariman as an uncalled for encumbrance. Roxana’s husband Yezad, a sports showroom clerk, strives very hard at balancing act of the finances and her two sons Jehangir and Murad, in their own little way try to help. Unfortunately, pressure not withstanding, Yezad first gives into gambling and later hatches a devious conspiracy against his employer. But neither him nor the family is ready to face the unexpected yet starkly painful consequences that follow in tragic successions. The story however, ends on a rather peaceful note.

You can’t help sympathizing with Nariman who is time and again disturbed by hysteric deliriums and morose nostalgia of his youthful days, and cuts across a sorry figure of bed-ridden, mostly neglected individual whose very existence becomes a sheer burden on all others. Even the italicized flashback into his youth, which seems so typically Bollywoodish in style and narrative, still renders an insight into his persona characterized by indecisive nature and vague abandoning to fate. Owing to parent’s pressure that wants to preserve “purity” of the race and religion, Nariman parts with his Christian girlfriend and marries a Parsi widow – a decision he regrets for the rest of his lifetime. Unable to do justice to himself, the family or his ex-girlfriend, he carries the weight of his guilt-ridden conscience even to his deathbed. The skeletons of the past continue to haunt him while the present gets only more miserable. Your heart tugs at Mistry’s excruciating depiction of old age, ill health and all associated helplessness of an elderly shunned by his own people - sometimes physically sometimes emotionally.

Yezad for me was more interesting than anyone else. A jolly-go-lucky good person at heart, the gradual metamorphosis his character undergoes is truly remarkable. His concern over finances, love for wife and kids, intolerant patience for Nariman are all as genuine as irritations over Coomy and Jal, gradual greediness for matkas and harmless scheming against his boss. His reminiscing of childhood days, sad yearning for yester years’ like Bombay, pensive forlorn over failed Canadian immigration attempt and uncontained hatred for Shiv Sena & their political likes, impart that intimate humanistic touch to his personality. His struggle with his own conscience more than once – when opting to bet on matka, when allured by huge sum of money in his table draw, while first entering Fire Temple and so on – makes fascinating read. But what you don’t expect is the complete somersault he does to finally embrace fanaticism, which find a discord even amongst his own children. Certainly the best etched and intriguing character in the novel.

Jal is more subdued and lacking own decisions kind of guy in contrast to his sister Coomy Contractor. Fostering old contempt and unforgiving in nature, Coomy still kindles more contrite than reproach in you. By evading her duties when it comes to her sickly stepfather and shrewd manipulations in order to retain him at the Chenoys, she certainly has her grey shades. But you don’t completely blame her since the first few chapters elaborately illustrate the hopeless drudgery of handling a septuagenarian by two helpless middle-aged persons. Nevertheless, her retaliation gets stauncher as she even refuses to shoulder financial constraints with Roxana, her darling little sister once upon a time. Sad to notice what influence economic conditions and selfish motives of people have on the most cherished relations.

Roxana is your typical motherly character, adorable daughter and an ideal wife. Murad’s character develops later towards the novel, but its Jehangir Chenoy who holds your interest through out. His emotional demeanor, genuine concern for grandfather, caring attitude towards parents.. more specifically mother, bonding with brother, innocent crush on class teacher, shame at being discovered of his wrong deed later etc. make him the most endearing of the lot. The way this darling little boy grows up in the span of time – from craving for Enid Blyton’s dream world in England to shameful acceptance of bribery to augment family’s supplies - is truly amazing. You are sorry to see innocence of childhood getting replaced inch by inch with the harsh austerities of real life.

There are several more padding characters (in fact a little more than necessary) that all take the story to its logical end.

The dealings are fast and interesting at the beginning. However, the pace slackens mid way. Too much rumination, unnecessary inferences, filmy inclinations and untoward antagonism dogs the narrative. The ending also leaves so much more wanted for. But the intricate weaving of politico-social aspects of the society and its influence over an ordinary man are commendable. The languor over the bygone Bombay, the futile attempts at holding on to present and a forewarning of imminent not-so-good times leave you with strange feelings. But the “holier than thou” attitude of the author that peeks in at place was totally unnecessary. Also, I do not understand the mindset of these foreign-based Indian authors who are very fine with nostalgia and proud of their lineage, but should always have an undercurrent of impending doom when it comes to India. Come on give us a break! We are doing quite fine despite all dirty Politics, Population and Pollution. Or at least we don’t like foreign settled individuals cozy in their envious heavens pointing to us our rotten systems here.

All in all, a good book with strong underlying emphasis on family ties, portraying changes in the emotional make-ups of individuals with respect to time and context.