Shuggie Bain - a review

I often read books that are well-received by the reader community or ones that have been awarded in the literature community. One such recent read was "Shuggie Bain", a debut novel by Douglas Stuart, winner of the 2020 Booker prize. As I started Shuggie Bain, I had a preconceived notion that it could be a lengthy, repetitive description of the despairing lives of the characters, and a bleak central theme in general which would make it difficult to continue reading till the end. These reservations of mine arise from my previous reading experience. I have often found that the books with awards or the ones most popular on everyone's must-read list are often not suited to what I consider an interesting read for me. I'm not criticizing any book or author here. It's a recurring thought that has often struck me when I finish such books. 

So with these thoughts, I picked Shuggie Bain anticipating it to be a gritty tale of depressing incidents referred to over and over again throughout the length of the book. However, I was in for a surprise. The book's narration is from the point of view of Shuggie Bain; talking about the experiences in his life, his dysfunctional family set in the suffering of the Glasgow community in the 1980s, and his relationship with his alcoholic mother, Agnes. 

Shuggie is a young boy trying to find himself amidst the difficulties that life is throwing at him. Abandoned by his father, Hugh Bain, and half-siblings, Leek and Catherine, Shuggie finds himself burdened with all sorts of responsibilities and care for Agnes through her alcoholism and depression. He faces additional struggles as he is often bullied and abused at school and in the neighborhood for his effeminate characteristics. It is only so much that a young boy could do to sustain himself in a world around him that is self-consuming, cruel, and scary. As the story progresses, people move in and out of Agnes's life, affecting her in ways that leave her more damaged than before. However, it is only Shuggie, out of her three children, who stays by her side till the end. Caring for her like she was his child, believing that his love for his mother could save her. Despite the depressing narrative, the parts portraying a child's love for his mother would warm your heart, even if for a few seconds.

Ultimately, this dark tale of a boy's struggles and his mother will make your heart cry out in pain. As much as you wish a ray of hope to shine on their souls, the author keeps giving you more than one reason that would continue breaking your heart. At no point in time will the thought of "feeling sympathetic for the duo" leave you. The theme is, no doubt, bleak and full of despair, however, the writing is what keeps you wanting to continue reading it. Raw emotions are described so vividly that makes you feel like the characters are your next-door neighbors and you want to visit them to check if everything is fine. The helplessness of the society they live in, marred by unemployment, poverty, violence, and addiction issues are the effects of Margaret Thatcher's policies in the 1980s leaving the poor and working-class of Scotland in utter turmoil. And all you could do as a reader is just read about one such affected family and feel sorry.

I reached the end of the book to read the Acknowledgement section where the author mentions his mother, brother, and sister and their struggles. Stuart, the youngest of three siblings, was born in Sighthill, a housing estate in Glasgow, Scotland. His father left him and his family when he was young, and he was raised by a single mother who was battling alcoholism and addiction. His mother died from alcoholism-related health issues when he was 16. Perhaps, this novel is closer to reality than just a fictional read and the narrative style and tone are an inkling of that. The book is inspired by the actual story of Mr. Stuart's life and that is what makes it such a tragic and heartbreaking read. I believe a writer can write something with such make-believe conviction when the story is closer to home. And to imagine that Douglas Stuart could be the Shuggie Bain in reality, is just painful. Having the courage to write the story of his life as a debut novel and being awarded for it, speaks volumes of the wonderful work done by Douglas Stuart. Hope this makes you consider this book for your next read.

That wild blue flower

 Gentiana scabra, the Japanese gentian. 
Laitlum canyon, Meghalaya in the backdrop.

Oh why don't you see

My unfading love for thee,

vast and deep as the canyon,

and beyond everything

it could be!

I have so much to say,

Yet time is hard to find.

I wonder if it would suffice

with a poem that rhymes.

For I imagined our love will be,

Like the wild blue flower

Blooming unseen in the valley,

Hidden under the bower,

against all odds,

in abundance and glory.

Nevertheless it refused to be,

As uncaring and free as the

Winds and the sea.

And so I leave behind,

some thoughts well-defined,

some feelings unwind,

seeking that peace of mind.

Words said unsaid,

and letting go just fine.

Hoping in another lifetime,

you could be mine!

Counting blessings

Fuchsia thy name

What's fuchsia you ask-

Is it the colour or the flower?

Its none; perhaps its a reminder

of those happy days

when I was just a kid

Playing around in my frilly frocks

Blue, yellow and fuchsia coloured.

Perhaps its that dream

Something I saw in my mind's eye

The one where I painted the town

Fuchsia, in merriment

And danced to the sound of

Ringing bells.

Perhaps it that was song

Playing in my head all day long

Praising the fucshia

The one in my garden

Blooming in its glory.

Or perhaps it is none of these.

Perhaps it was the spur of that moment.

Leaving me with the question-

Why Fuchsia?

(Art by my friend Kunal Sarma. Here's his Instagram username: k_omoreb_i)

A kitten’s wish

(Art by my friend Mrigakhi Bora. Original creation by artist Vimal Chandran)

Why does the human live in a box like house?

Watching the idiot box all day

Only peeping out once or twice

To adjust the antenna signal in the way.

I am a little kitten, I stay outdoors all day

I dream of yummy things

And wish to lick a fishbone clean

Found in the roadside bin.

I wonder if the big fishes of the ocean

Would ever want to fly, like I do

Then I would meet them in the sky 

And twirl gracefully in my rainbow tutu.

For now I could play with the human

Only if it would come out and

Give me some milk and candies,

Sit in the lush green grass 

And watch the clouds dancing to 

The tune of the blowing wind.

Oh what a wonderful day that would be!

Once upon a December evening

 

(Dedicated to my dear friend Dishna Phukan. Here’s the link to her website :https://www.dishnaphukan.com/ )

Bathtub plants

Flora was a crazy lady. Thats what everybody had to say about her. She was a sane, young woman until the disappearance of her husband. Ever since then, she went into a recluse in her home. Her husband, Joseph was thought to have been killed in a plane crash in Japan. But no one knows if he is dead for sure. His body was never found. 

Nobody visited Flora, nor would she open the door to anybody. I was concerned about her, she was my friend. So I used to peep in to have a look at her every now and then. On most days she looked fine to me. Humming to herself as she tended to the plants she had grown in her bathtub. Yes, there was a mini garden in her bathtub. Strange as it may seem, the plants thrived with little sunlight and fresh air from the vent above the window. 

 

One fine day as I was returning from work, I heard a loud wail from her house. I ran towards the window to look. I saw Flora slumped on the floor. She was dressed in red and wore her pearls, looking like a woman on a date. But she looked distressed as she her eyes were fixated on a spot. Thats when my gaze shifted to the bathtub. The plants weren’t alive anymore. The tub was covered with some blue green looking substance; perhaps algae. It smelled foul, I could sense it even outside the house. What exactly was she doing in the bathtub? What was she growing there? Why are the plants dead so suddenly?

 

And then I saw Flora looking at me fiercely. Kohl stained eyes that whispered sinister intentions, teeth clenched, one hand plucking the pearl beads from the necklace. It scared me. I took my bag and ran from there as fast as I could, promising never to peep into her house again.

 

The new, yet old

Perhaps 2020 was this dark side of the world and yet we hustled through; meeting the stronger side of ourselves, building up our courage and determination to survive. For we knew - the struggle to survive is not a new game. 

Sending good vibes to everyone for this maze -2021 ✨✨🧚🏼‍♀️✨✨

When Judy met Lily

 

It was a cold winter morning. The bright morning sun shimmered through the snow. It was the day when Judy the alpaca meets Lily. Judy and her partner Jake had wanted a baby ever since they got together. They would look up to the sky and watch a plane go by and wonder if it would drop a baby for them to catch. But fate had some different plan for them.

So one day while Jake set out to go the fields, Judy stayed at home. She was busy with her chores when she heard a faint meowing outside. She thought it might be a stray cat looking around for food. But the meowing continued. So she came outside expecting to find a stray cat. Instead what she saw made her heart skip a beat. It was a tiny kitten playing all by itself with a flower. Judy stood there, amused by the kitten’s play. The kitten jumped around the flower, meowing as if it were another kitten. This continued for a while, until Jake arrived home.

“Look Jake, such a tiny kitten”, exclaimed Judy.

So they both stood there watching the kitten as it played. Their hearts filled with joy and laughter. After a while the kitten got tired and started looking for its mother. But no mommy cat was to be seen around. That’s when it struck Judy that the kitten must have been lost.

They brought it home and fed some milk. After a good meal, the kitten rolled up near Judy and fell asleep. Judy was touched by the gesture.

Watching that Jake suggested, “Let the kitty stay with us until it finds its mother.”

Judy beamed with delight. And that’s how the little kitten, Lily, became the light of the lives of Judy and Jake.

The last night with my family

 

Its been 20 years since the accident- the one that ceased the existence of the townspeople. But I needed to find my family. I drove into the abandoned town. I parked my car near the woods and walked around. Dry leaves crackling under my feet as I walked along the empty road. I stopped in front of a broken down warehouse. Broken car parts, rusting old drums and more dried leaves lay all around. I vaguely remember what had happened here.

20 years ago, one night I anxiously lay in my room as I heard the first little cries of my baby brother being born in the next room. I was elated. I ran in and slowly opened the door. The nurse was cradling the baby in her arms. I wanted to hold the baby but I was asked to stay in my room as they tended to my mother and my father was not yet there. I came back to my room and plopped down on my bed. I was  looking out of the window when I felt a sudden shake. The Buddha statue on my table started moved violently. Before I could comprehend what was happening, the roof came crumbling down. I called out to my mother but all I could hear was a lot of loud screams. I saw a glint of light from my window and I rushed towards it. There was a tiny gap. I jumped out and stood on the street. There was chaos all around. I looked back at our house. The roof on my mother’s room was on the ground. I did not see anyone there.

That was the last time when I saw my family.

 

The abandoned warehouse

 

I was yet to recover from the trauma of the death of my best friend. Everywhere I go I can see him. So much so that the other day I froze at the spot when I saw the silhouette of a man walking on a zebra crossing . It was around midnight, everything was dark but the height and the walking style of the figure resembled that of my friend. I wanted to take a look at the face. So I followed the figure. At the corner of the street he took a right turn and walked ahead. I kept a good distance and walked behind him.

He reached an empty street, across it was an old, abandoned warehouse. The gate seemed to be padlocked. Suddenly he climbed up the wall, stepped on the branch of the tree near it and jumped into the property. It seemed like he frequented the place. I did not want to trespass but the entire scenario intrigued me. So I tried to snoop in like he did. I stepped on the branch when out of nowhere a bee looking insect flitted past my ear. As I took a closer look, I was amazed. The bee was unlike the ones I have seen- it looked robotic. I was staring at it when it stung me. I dropped down and fainted instantly.

After an hour or so, my eyes opened. I could feel my legs and hands were tied. Just then somebody threw water at my face. My vision cleared, I looked up to see who was there.

“Hello John. Guess you are happy to see me alive!”, said my friend.