Write up in The Week, Oman

Spectator of life

Tridwip K Das

theweek@apexstuff.com

Novelist Asha Iyer Kumar, who is the third Indian expat in Oman to publish anovel in a year, says that Muscat inspired her more than anything else

The publisher of Asha Iyer Kumar’s book hammers the nail squarely on its head. “It is soaked with ordinary life. Our lives,” Sunil K Poolani of Frog Books wrote responding to an email query on what he considered was the USP of Sand Storms, Summer Rains. Asha is Indian and was a resident of Muscat – for nine years – when she wrote her debut novel. She relocated to Fujairah a year ago but is still hopelessly nostalgic about Muscat. “There is nothing that I don’t miss about the place. The beautifully laid out city, the clean, wide roads, the green sidewalks, the way the city breaks into colours in winter…” That descriptive style of narration is evident in her writing – it is full of imagery. Asha opens Sand Storms, Summer Rains with these words – “The flight to Muscat lasted three hours. The sky and the sea merged into a blue vignette at the altar of the universe. Straddling clouds hung from the sky like wads of cotton wool. From the window of the giant steel hawk, they looked like angels wheeling over a confused humanity.”

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What I saw of men here (the Gulf region) who came from their homeland (Kerala), leaving their
people behind, was a far cry from the stories I had heard of them back there. The much touted,
much envied Gulf returnee there was a sweating, slogging, lonely campaigner here. I saw them all around me, in the pick-up taxis, on the streets of Ruwi, on the lawns along the highway, under the summer sun, inside factories. I can describe them as my literary epiphany for the novel. They inspired such despair in me that I felt an urge to write about them”
– Asha Iyer Kumar

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Released in India in April and expected in Borders outlets in Oman soon, Asha says she owes it to Muscat for providing an atmosphere conducive to literary expression. Asha came to Muscat soon after her marriage in 1998 and worked as a freelance writer for publications in India and the Gulf region. This followed a stint teaching English grammar, literature and creative writing to expatriate and Omani students at her residence. “It was during this time that the idea for the
novel came up and I began to write. It took three years to complete the novel. If places can be one’s muse, Muscat was it for me.” Nevertheless, the story is not set in Oman. It begins to unfold with a flight to Muscat but, curiously enough, the rest of the Gulf setting is in the UAE. “That’s because people relate to Dubai and Abu Dhabi more when we say the Gulf. It was so at least in the past in Kerala (the Indian state to which a large proportion of the Indian migrant workers in the Gulf region belong). So much so that the Gulf used to be synonymous with Dubai – some even called it Abu Dubai – several years ago. So I set the story in these places. But it could be the story of any Indian expatriate in any of the Gulf states. Take out Dubai/Abu Dhabi – the names are mentioned very sparsely in the story – and insert Oman, Bahrain or Qatar, and the plot and the story would remain as relevant.”
Sand Storms, Summer Rains tells the saga of two men from Kerala who arrive in the Gulf – one chasing a dream, the other under compulsion. The plot is a maze of twists and turns. These could reflect a fertile imagination or even an ability to be inspired by real life. Either way, Asha tells a compelling story with her vivid imagery. At the heart of her novel are its ironies, which no matter what the reader’s cultural conditioning, can’t be missed. In Asha’s own words, “A resonating sentiment in the novel is the fact that everything in life comes at a price, a price which many times fails to justify the very gains.”
Considering fictional writings tend to be autobiographical, when asked if the generalisation held true in her case too, Asha said hers is biographical. “A novel cannot happen unless you draw on the huge resource of either your or others’ experiences in life because art, in its essence, is a reflection of the real.”
Asha’s husband, Vimal Kumar, who is now getting used to life as a novelist’s husband – “Her literary achievement is adding quality to our life, except that we get less time for many other things these days” – did not see himself anywhere in the story.

The response to her book, Asha claimed, has generated interest among expatriate communities
spread across the world. “But the response in Kerala, where I hail from and where the novel is partly set, has been overwhelming.” She has, however, been slammed for committing a linguistic flub’. One reviewer caused Asha enough grief to prompt her to post an entry on her blog for the ‘unpardonable’ offence of not knowing the difference between a mangrove and a mango grove. “It’s an error; I admit it happened because I was genuinely ignorant. It was just one of the many plain things that I did not know of in this world,” she wrote on her blog.
Asked what’s next, Asha let loose another volley of literary idioms and phrases typical of her style. “I shall continue to write till I stop being a keen spectator of life. I love the feel of words, the throb of literary expression, and revel in the experience of putting my thoughts down.” She has just completed a collection of ten short stories, titled Marie Biscuits and Other Snacks.
“There is another long story knocking on my head. The idea is still sketchy, the plot is embryonic, but I can feel it brewing inside me. It looks like sooner or later, it will become apparent as a novel.”