I was listening to an audio clip of an interview the other day given by the writer and blogger Sandip Roy to the National Public Radio in the United States.  He’d just come out with his new book ‘Don’t Let Him Know’.  I presume that he is a proud member of the gay community and the book in fact, deals with the issue to a large extent.  During the course of the chat, he was asked about the difficulty of coming out as a gay man or a woman in the deeply stifling societal mores of India; and his answer was quite interesting.  He said that in India, you don’t really ‘’come out’’ as much as the whole family goes back into the closet with you!  It becomes a family shame and everybody rushes around to cover it.

   That response really struck me and when I started reading the book, I realized what an astute of human situation the man is.  ‘Don’t Let Him Know’ is one of the best work of fiction that I read in a long time.  There are thirteen chapters in the book and what is most remarkable thing about it is that all thirteen chapters could also be read as short stories on its own, but because the author has not lost the overall arc of the plot, it could also be enjoyed as a novel.  That’s the beauty of it.  It deals with the burden of secret many people carry in their hearts and always looking over their shoulders, fearing that if they let it out, it will disturb the delicate harmony of their lives.  Now I don’t wish to give away too much by way of plot, but couple of things really stands out for me.

  One is when one of the main character Amit returns from the US to Calcutta after the news of his father’s death.  The kind of emotions he goes through, the things that occupies his mind is a masterful portrayal of how spending a considerable period of time in the west especially the U.S, can fundamentally change you as a person.  The other scene that really made an impression on me was when Amit ventures out of the house to get himself a packet of chips and maybe a Diet Coke; the shop owner, having known him since when he was a kid, first commiserates with him at the passing of his father, and then asks him what he will do with the old big house since (he presumes), he will be taking his mother with him to America.  When Amit fumbles for the right answer, the old shop owner mentions about his brother-in-law who takes over old and crumbling mansions and converts them into modern day flats by dismantling the old structure.  And by the way of compensation to the owners, he offers them half the numbers of constructed flats.  So if he’s willing, he could get in touch with his brother-in-law.

      At this point Amit can’t help a wry smile on his face.  He thinks this is exactly the kind of conversation he could relate to his friends in San Francisco.  He could tell them that corner shop guys in India not only sell you things, but they also dispense real estate advice!  The point is that what attracts us-- and I’m sure I speak for a lot of people—towards a good piece of art or literature are not the elements of fantastical or outlandish, but the familiarity of mundane.