The fear of being ‘Other’

Aradhika Sharma

In a book of less than 160 pages, Khair has exhibited masterly storytelling. As the hero-cum-victim of the book, he has fashioned the unforgettable character of Ahmad — a shy, unassuming likable, middle-aged man. He has curated, at various points, the atmosphere(s) of mystery, drama, ominousness and sadness. And, by exposing the tragedies of living in modern times, he has proved that a nation never forgets its wounds.

Khair moved to Denmark to pursue his academic career and is currently an associate professor at Aarhus University. He writes on themes of Islamophobia and the perceptions of stranger-hood, clearly driving home the message of the devitalising effects of xenophobia, sometimes using doses of humor and sometime pragmatic everyday-ness. Khair is always stylish, never strident and therefore, he’s very effective indeed!

As with the characters and plots of his previous books, Just another Jihadi Jane and How to Fight Islamist Terrorism from the Missionary Position, racialism and prejudice contribute considerably to the actions and plot of this book.

While on the surface, all seems placid but in subtle ways Khair exposes the fear and suspicion among different communities that lies simmering just beneath the veneer of apparent acceptance and validation. The result of the ‘other-ness’ of communities being enhanced in the public psyche is that it leads to increased marginalisation of such people in India, a historically multi ethnic and multi religious country.

The story is of the narrator — entrepreneur Anil Mehrotra, who has set up a successful business with the assistance of Ahmad, his right-hand man. Ahmad is especially useful because he is a polyglot — a throwback from his times as a tourist guide in Bodh Gaya (where “he’d even met Richard Gere strolling around one day”). His efficiency and ability to speak many languages impresses the foreign clients. Additionally, the unassuming man has a huge capacity for work, which he never refuses except on Shab-e-baraat or Night of happiness, the day that Muslims celebrate and honour the departed souls of their ancestors.

It is on one such Shab-e-baraat that the whole equation between Mehrotra and his trusted adjutant changes, and alters the course of their lives. Mehrotra offers to drop Ahmad home that evening and is invited to his flat for the traditional halwa. Once there, Mehrotra is startled to be offered a plate of make-believe halwa, accompanied by some (real) nimki, cooked by a wife, who Mehrotra can neither see nor hear. Completely discomfited and increasingly horrified by the circumstances, Mehrotra begins to question the sanity of the situation and that of Ahmad. He decides to hire a detective to get to the bottom of Ahmad’s “demented, superstitious, crafty, crazy” — mentally unstable behaviour.

Does the wife — Roshni — really exist or has she been murdered or imprisoned by Ahmad? Is Ahmad mad? What is his background and finally the hard decision of letting Ahmad stay in the company or letting him go. “By not being what I thought he was, he had thrown my world out of gear.”

The investigation throws up tragic history and reveal aspects of Ahmad’s life that are marked with intolerance, violence and tragedy at both the personal and the national level. The story takes the reader back to the Godhra riots and the long-lasting effects of past tragedies that still impact people. The public memory may have faded but the memory of a nation does not dissolve and people who were impacted still carry scars. In two different occurrences, Khair demonstrates how debilitating bigotry and dogmas even within the same religion can be and how harmful and humiliating is intolerance!