SCENT OF HENNA FLOWERS
A compelling tale of unconventional relationships steeped in subverted realities
Acid is a turbulent trip: hallucinogenic and haywire, imbued with melancholia. Originally written in Malayalam, Sangeetha Sreenivasan’s English translation of her own work is masterfully accomplished.
A strange volatility grips the unusual household of same-sex couple, Kamala and Shaly, and Kamala’s teenaged twin sons Aadi and Shiva. The women live out their subverted togetherness fuelled by LSD. Kamala’s inner demons are many: a failed forced marriage to a cousin, her sexual orientation and consequent attachment to Shaly, and her dependence on psychotropic drugs.
Narrated in a non-linear style, the story opens with the news of Kamala’s mother’s death in her native village in Kerala. Kamala’s seeming ambivalence towards this event coupled with her drug-induced delusional stupor presages what lies ahead. When she decides that they must pack up their urban Bangalore life and move to her mother’s ancestral home, it creates upheaval in everyone’s lives. Shiva the smarter, disabled son and his caretaker brother the gentler Aadi grapple with their new shuttered existence. In their earlier city life, the women and the boys had clearly segregated living areas. “The house had two storeys. Kamala lived with Shaly on the upper floor and the boys lived on the lower floor. The women were free to come down whenever they wanted. But the boys were not allowed on the upper floor.”
In the ancestral house, it is Shaly who must keep away from the curious probing eyes of the relatives and stay in a room apart. The stifling existence in the house takes its toll. Kamala becomes a pale shadow, sliding into a hellhole of delusional spells, increasingly seeking isolation. The house smells of decline and decay. Befittingly, the closest sign of life is a nearby crematorium, which fascinates and repels.
Though seemingly the protagonist, the story isn’t Kamala’s alone. It is, at different times, about each of the four main characters. The interplay of shifting dynamics between Kamala and Shaly between between Kamala and her sons is marked by complexity. Kamala’s journey is in an eternally subaqueous state, floating in and out of real and the imaginary worlds replete with flashbacks, hallucinations, bizarre images.
Sreenivasan’s prose is rich and lyrical and alludes to everyone from Moliere and James Joyce to Enigma’s “Return to Innocence”.
There is no coyness either, “The little holes, the acid designs on the bleach marks in the crotch of her panties, like a beehive, sometimes reminded her of the futility of living biologically. Love has the fragrance of henna flowers, the piquant burning sensation of pepper buds. It makes one wet with happiness and leaves the eyes sore with desperation.”
It takes a little time to get under the skin of the story and follow the ebb and flow of the narrative. Sreenivasan is in clear command of her craft.
“In the sunlight, two water droplets oscillated on a lotus leaf like two precious pearls that had no roots, no reality... Like toddlers taking their first steps, the droplets wobbled on the leaf’s surface for a while, then in unison they flowed towards the centre, to the heart of the leaf, as if going back to the womb: they shone there like a priceless gem.”
It is difficult to encapsulate ‘Acid’ in a few paragraphs. Complex and compelling, Sreenivasan’s work is a cauldron of corrosive elements simmering together, unsettling and hypnotic.