Originally published in 2011 and now translated from Urdu by Riyaz Latif, On The Other Side bears the distinct trademarks of Rahman Abbas’s writing: poetic language, an emphasis on the gullies of Bombay, the dangerous divisiveness of religion in contemporary India, and the iron grip of patriarchal terror.
On The Other Side follows the notes and diaries left behind by Abdus-Salam Kalshekar, a teacher and writer whose life was devoted to publishing “Dastan-e-Ishq”, a seven-volume account—or a “Saga of Passion”—detailing his affairs and encounters with women. Told through a series of vignettes, the larger narrative structure of the novel is provided by an unnamed, unknown researcher who attempts to piece together Abdus-Salam’s saga after his death. Though this unnamed narrator structures the narrative flow, the vignettes feel diaristic and provide an intimate view into the psyche of Abdus-Salam.
Abdus-Salam’s “Saga of Passion” is a vivid account—across several volumes—of his various encounters and affairs with women, and many pages are devoted to detailing his passing affairs, as well as trysts that last years. Yet the language he uses to describe women is often strange and uncomfortable. At one point, he noticed that women with a “melancholic disposition” often had rashes, “began to discharge pus”, and emanated an “odour”. In another scene, he visits St Mary’s church in Mahim, where he spends paragraphs to “savour the feminine form”, eyeing a stranger and noticing “the attractive contours of her face and her shapely legs”. Though gleaning a sense of discomfort—or humor—through these passages may very well be the intention of the author, its excessiveness is often burdensome to the novel.
Though the larger structure may be driven by the research on Abdus-Salam’s “Saga of Passion”, the relationship the novel is most concerned with is that of Adbus-Salam and God. God assumes the dual role of a personal confidante and sworn enemy, an entity shrouded in mystery whose presence is palpable. Abdus-Salam frequently details the mental gymnastics of contemplation when he thinks of God, littering the margins of his diaries across decades: “I cannot reveal even those things about You to others that You Yourself wish for me to reveal to them.” The twists and turns of sentence structure and the overwhelming weight of “You” burden Abdus-Salam’s conscience and, therefore, his writing. Much more than his affairs with women, it is Abdus-Salam’s God that becomes the most important relationship. In the original Urdu, the novel’s title lays greater emphasis on God—“Khuda Ke Saaye Mein Ankh Micholi”—which roughly translates to “playing hide and seek in the shadow of God.”
The high points in the novel arrive with the narrator’s recollections and visits to his ancestral village, Konkan. The tales of the village assume the legacy of myths; spindly rivers grow grand and mystical, women become sirens, and the land—in Abdus-Salam’s vision—becomes mythological. A particularly powerful scene in Konkan involves Abdus-Salam’s realization of his cousin’s engagement in a clandestine queer romance. Yet these moments, where Abdus-Salam’s internal monologue and quest for God take a backseat, are rare. The contrasts between scenes in Konkan and those within Abdus-Salam’s mind have a dual effect. On the one hand, the scarcity makes the moments in Konkan brighter, serving as a welcome lift to the story. On the other hand, one senses its lack in the bulk of the novel, which feels heavier and slower in comparison.
Abbas’s focus on the plight of the middle-class Indian Muslim is a frequent theme in his work, but in On The Other Side, the delivery is quieter, and the pace is slower. This is a marked shift from the sensory overload of his Sahitya Akademi Award-winning Rohzin, but is an interesting addition to his oeuvre.
On The Other Side will likely appeal to those already familiar with Rahman Abbas’ work, while newcomers might be stumped by the strangeness of structure, plotlessness and vivid internal monologues. These are all facets that make Abbas’s writing rich and distinctive, yet they are better suited to specific palates rather than a wide-ranging audience. Abbas weaves a story with a compelling character that asks interesting questions about the role of religion and desire in shaping our lives.