REVIEW IN GOODREADS
‘It happened like this’ is one of those books you wished you had read growing up; women full of grace and courage, hard-won lives and a springing hope in the prose. It is a simple story, echoing a sense of life and living that is now far extinct. In fact, reading it, it dawns upon you how much you miss conventional storytelling.
Set in the immediate post-colonial India, the book follows nearly forty years of a transition. It starts off contextualising the lives of three women whose friendship anchors the story: Zarine, starting afresh as a young widow in Mumbai, Hema trying to take on the reins of family, and Sister Margaret making the journey across the oceans to India. Through the workings of fate, they come to meet in the beautiful hill station of Ooty. As women of different dispositions but unconventional lives, they connect instantly, developing a deep closeness with the years.
The writer provides insights into the worlds of women at the time; their struggles, aspirations, their tenacity and spirit. The book embraces many of the cliches of feminine virtue, distributing them generously among the three women. But it is inspiring in the story, set in a different age.
The novel’s best aspect is its ability to capture vividly, the idyllic boarding life at Nazareth Convent, Ooty. The book’s appreciation of convent values is evident, relying on that education for wisdom through life’s turns.
The writer is at ease with the imagery of the hill station, drawing much from memory it seems, as old haunts and landmarks are fondly written about. The detailing of the geography is remarkable (particularly in Zarine’s first journey), and so are the descriptions of the rhythm of life in the hills. A childlike wonder infuses the writing, which is impressively adaptive.
Parveen, Soli and Leela, Aditya, children of Zarine and Hema, carry on the legacy of the friendship. They represent the dreams of a generation in an independent nation; their career choices, and the freedoms available to them are more telling of changes than any direct elaboration by the writer on the social transformation. The political chronicling could have been done away with as it acquires little significance in the characters’ lives, giving off a sense of being contrived. What, on the other hand, is more arresting, is a picture of how the previous generations built their lives. How life-changing decisions were set in motion by trusted acquaintances. How bold decisions and rebellion are hardly a prerogative of the present generation.
For the observant reader, the outpouring of emotion in letters, the respect and generosity accorded to visitors, the chivalry exhibited by the men and women...might overwhelm. And that is simply what the book is, a nostalgic revisiting that is pure and unadulterated. (less)
Set in the immediate post-colonial India, the book follows nearly forty years of a transition. It starts off contextualising the lives of three women whose friendship anchors the story: Zarine, starting afresh as a young widow in Mumbai, Hema trying to take on the reins of family, and Sister Margaret making the journey across the oceans to India. Through the workings of fate, they come to meet in the beautiful hill station of Ooty. As women of different dispositions but unconventional lives, they connect instantly, developing a deep closeness with the years.
The writer provides insights into the worlds of women at the time; their struggles, aspirations, their tenacity and spirit. The book embraces many of the cliches of feminine virtue, distributing them generously among the three women. But it is inspiring in the story, set in a different age.
The novel’s best aspect is its ability to capture vividly, the idyllic boarding life at Nazareth Convent, Ooty. The book’s appreciation of convent values is evident, relying on that education for wisdom through life’s turns.
The writer is at ease with the imagery of the hill station, drawing much from memory it seems, as old haunts and landmarks are fondly written about. The detailing of the geography is remarkable (particularly in Zarine’s first journey), and so are the descriptions of the rhythm of life in the hills. A childlike wonder infuses the writing, which is impressively adaptive.
Parveen, Soli and Leela, Aditya, children of Zarine and Hema, carry on the legacy of the friendship. They represent the dreams of a generation in an independent nation; their career choices, and the freedoms available to them are more telling of changes than any direct elaboration by the writer on the social transformation. The political chronicling could have been done away with as it acquires little significance in the characters’ lives, giving off a sense of being contrived. What, on the other hand, is more arresting, is a picture of how the previous generations built their lives. How life-changing decisions were set in motion by trusted acquaintances. How bold decisions and rebellion are hardly a prerogative of the present generation.
For the observant reader, the outpouring of emotion in letters, the respect and generosity accorded to visitors, the chivalry exhibited by the men and women...might overwhelm. And that is simply what the book is, a nostalgic revisiting that is pure and unadulterated. (less)
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