Explore this English translation of a Malayalam novel about women's lives

The Chausath Yogini Temple in Hirapur finds a mention in the book as one of the rare temples in India where not only the goddess, but 64 other women who had taken birth from her are celebrated. Pics Courtesy/Wikimedia Commons

Women are always for others to find," states the narrator, a policewoman called Vanitha. If they aren't where they are supposed to be, a missing person's case is reported in the police station. The woman who leaves of her own will is caught and brought to the courts, which then declare a judgment giving her free will. "What a joke!" This sentiment is where Jissa Jose's Kerala Sahitya Akademi shortlisted novel, Mudritha (Harper Perennial), translated from the Malayalam into English by Jayasree Kalathil, begins. A former tour guide-turned-tutor, 30-year-old Aniruddhan, visits the police station to report one such case. A woman named Mudritha has disappeared. He has neither met her, nor has an interest in following-up on the progress of the case. When he was overwhelmed by immense insecurity in his life, she had entered his life, contacting him about a 10-day trip to Odisha with nine other women, and, through her email exchanges, understood him. He believes he owes her this much.

No one woman knows the other, but each, carefully curated by Mudritha, is connected by a shared love of travelling and a desperate desire to live an unencumbered life. When the narrative moves from Aniruddhan's report and notebook pages, which reflect Mudritha's emails, into the lives of the nine women, Jose's prose reads like nine short stories. Each chapter takes the reader into the heart of an immediate trigger that had led each woman to Mudritha, as well as a possible ignition to undertake a journey along the banks of the Chitrotpala River. Their stories are peppered with tales of women from puranas, local myths and legends, which succeed in indicating women's shared desires over centuries. Mudritha's narrative is the only one that is several pitches hazier than others', and only reveals itself in parts.

Jayasree Kalathil and Jissa Jose

Vanitha, who coalesces numerous strands of disparate stories, stands out for her meticulous note-taking and tender familiarity in reaching out to the nine women. Her urgency in trying to piece together each narrative and, through it, Mudritha's story, points to two achievements of the writer. Jose introduces a policewoman as the core narrator of the novel, a character that rarely gets a voice in Indian fiction. Moreover, Vanitha's sure-footedness, determination, and her emotional depth in understanding the 10 women, make hers a well-rounded character. Having held a precarious position, she's faced with microaggressions within the police station. Vanitha works overtime and puts up with her colleague Renji, who on seeing her dark circles, teases her with an assumed affair, completely dismissing her efforts towards an abandoned case.

In her translator's note, Kalathil writes, "Mudritha is the story of Kerala's women… In the male-dominated space of Malayalam literature, pennezhuthu (women's writing) has been relegated to women writing about ‘women's issues', as though these are not part of the public and political imaginary."

Yet, a novel like Mudritha throws down the gauntlet to the male reader. Jose experiments with form, embedding email exchanges, diary notes, mini-stories, and poems that help create different narrative levels. This enables the reader to actively engage with the novel till the last page.

Available At leading bookstores and e-stores
Cost Rs 599