Lessons in Forgetting

   'Tomorrow is only a convention' maybe considered as the best tagline for Anita Nair's 'Lessons in Forgetting'. The story based on how ‘today’ blends with the unpredictable 'tomorrow'  gives it a varied texture.

 The blunt display of bleak and bland tones of life is what 'Lessons in Forgetting' is all about. There is an imprint of love in every falsetto, in every mistake and in every betrayal. The text definitely conquers the heart, triggering the most intense feelings of the readers. The story-telling technique is embellished with the narrator being the unseen, invisible characterization of thoughts. Each character is developed through their thoughts and memories and the narrator closely follows them to its nook and corner. Every such memory prompts a confession in the reader's mind. Though ruined to the roots with cancerous remorse, every character shows a steady effort to uplift the soul and move on in life. The sense of terror encapsulated in the climax provokes sustained awe and anxiety throughout. The occasional usage of native language and excerpts from Greek myths, The Gita and The Bible gives it an elegant touch. A tone of plea and helplessness can be traced throughout the story. Emotional instability and vulnerability is typical in most of the characters. Nair has sensibly showcased the real reprehensible face of corporate life. The female figures in the story are sketched with two shades-vulnerability and dilemma on one side and incomparable ability to persuade and console on the other.

Meera, demure and 'clean-cultured', nurturing her own inexplicable emotional instabilities, is aghast when her husband walks out on her without a word. Nevertheless, she never collapses except before her own wild thoughts. Professor J. Krishnamurthy or Jak , a researcher on cyclones, runs into Meera several times before they actually move in together for a common cause. Jak is perhaps the most infectious character in the story as his overwhelming and irrational parental care stings every time it comes to the fore. His daughter Smriti runs into a freak accident in a small town in Madras and ever after that she is bedridden without even a speck of memory. Meera, submissive to her despicable sensual needs, collapses with Rishi Soman, a small-scale actor, who turns out to be the only clue for exploring Smriti's past. The smooth blending of these incidents makes the story a perfect reading experience.

Pining and dismay are two common characteristics in every female character. Ranging from Jak's aunt Kala to Meera, two extremes of culture and status, women have a similar penchant for despondency and pining for love and care. They are either betrayed by their husbands or widowed in the case of Meera's mother Lilly and grandmother Saro. The men folk in the story are portrayed with a flirtatious nature. Women too are pictured with a devastating absence of chastity. 'Marriage is only for social security and status' states Vinne, Meera's friend, who appears with an extra-marital affair. Jak's wife neglects all responsibilities and flees abroad with Smriti's sibling. These patterns are a clear projection of deteriorating family bonds and each character is in fact a tight slap on the ravishing corporate life.

The story ends with the word 'Smriti' meaning 'memory', indicating that the end of every memory is a new beginning. The inevitability of fate is conveyed in the best possible manner. Ever summer brings the fascination of a new flower, and in every cloud burst a new smell of earth is born. Every new relation promises a new path, every person is irreplaceable; each demise is an irreparable loss and every shared emotion, a priceless treasure. Dawn and dusk encodes with them endless births and deaths. Every moment is inevitable. There is no halt or going back. All that is possible is to smile at every small cause until a sob wipes it off. The next moment should be a tussle to bloom, to smile once again. Every sob is an end, and every smile is a beginning to a new memory.