We live in strange and chaotic times where there’s hardly a breather between the catastrophes that continually wreak havoc in the world, each of which leaves trails of disaster that would impact generations to come. We do not need to seek out information about these terrible happenings since they are shoved down our throats by myriad forms of media, anyway. If you have managed to avoid the blaring news headlines on television, there is always the anxiety-inducing content on your social media feed that you must navigate. Despite the shocking nature of such news, they only momentarily catch the fancy of audiences and soon, we have moved on to the next set of headlines that can be turned into memes, relished for the purpose of entertainment, and then discarded without a care. Especially if you are an avid social media user, you begin to see that this cycle tempts people into haphazardly adopting half-baked popular opinions, simply to advertise their position on issues to friends and followers alike. This often does not allow for deeper, impactful conversations around serious issues plaguing society.
Contrary to daily news, literature helps you build a fundamental understanding of issues, think critically and independently, and arrive at an informed stance. I believe a crucial step in engaging with real-life social issues is to read a book about it. For a very long time, my reaction to watching or reading a news piece about a terrorist attack remained the same: it was shock and horror at how inhumane the perpetrators of the attack were, and more importantly, sympathy for the victims and their families. And then, I read The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid. The book is about a young Pakistani Muslim, living in the U.S., who, having graduated from Princeton, holds a high position at a consulting firm. He is quite comfortably settled with a social circle, and then, the 9/11 attack happens. His world is upturned in a day, and neither his professional standing nor his educational accomplishment protects him from the relentless discrimination and Islamophobic attacks he begins to face. Up until I read this book, I have not given a thought to what the larger repercussions of a terrorist attack are, to how ordinary Muslim citizens in Western nations suddenly become “suspects” and live in constant dread.
There are several books that discuss class and caste in India, but one of the most hard-hitting ones is The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. It is a biting satire that tells the story of Balram Halwai, a brilliant man who is born the son of a rickshaw-puller. Coming from the lowest rungs of society, he is forced to drop out of school. He works as a driver for a wealthy, upper-caste family with strong political affiliations. The story may seem like a classic rags-to-riches tale, because Balram ends up as an entrepreneur in Bangalore, but not without some blood spilled on the way. This character has plenty of shades of grey, but the justification he gives for his treacherous actions is astounding and almost convincing. Throughout the book, it is his reflections on the family he works for and his continuous commentary on caste, class, and ambition that stands out for its scathing manner.
Another book that I recently read and really enjoyed is Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid. It is about a young black woman, Emira, who works as a babysitter for a well-off, white family. Late one night, when Emira is requested to babysit, she takes Briar to a nearby supermarket, where she is wrongly accused of kidnapping the white child. The story is about the incidents that follow this episode. Written in a thrilling fashion with a gripping plot, the entertaining nature of the story does not take away from the fact that it is dealing with racism, and not just in its obvious form that unfolded in the supermarket incident. Subtle, everyday racism is portrayed in the attitude, language, and behaviour of white people in the story, and in their treatment of Emira.
While there is nothing like first-hand experience to truly understand why some things are problematic, our identities, sometimes, prevent and shield us from experiencing every type of discrimination or inequality there is in the world. But there is nothing worse than living in a bubble. This is where literature steps in, it allows us to live many lives. By putting yourself in the shoes of someone who is radically different from you, you live their life, even if only for a short while, and you understand their feelings and motivations. Literature helps you develop a keen sense of empathy by tackling harsh realities in a nuanced manner. Suddenly, discrimination and abuse are no longer distant, and there is a name and face to the figures who become characters in the story. Perhaps this is the strength of books — they tell tough truths by making you see the world in all its twisted glory, and they make you care enough to want to change it for the better.
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