Hindustan Times ST (Mumbai) - Live
Wandering into the light
Booker Prize winner Shehan Karunatilaka on his native Sri Lanka, queer rights, civil war and the hungry ghosts of Buddhist literature
one of many realities among gay men in Sri Lanka and elsewhere.
Tell us about the gay rights scenario in Sri Lanka, and whether you think that might contribute in some way to that conversation.
I do not think we have much of a conversation around gay rights in Sri Lanka but this needs to change. While I do not think of Sri Lankan society as particularly homophobic, it is clear that no political party is ready to take up the issue of gay rights. They are occupied with socio-economic issues, and they think that homosexuality is not really a part of our culture so we do not need to bother.
It is hard for me to say if my book will contribute in any significant way as far as closeted gay men are concerned but I have been hearing criticism from people who believe that I decided to write about a closeted gay character to pander to literary critics in the West. Frankly, I do not have a rejoinder to offer with this kind of a backlash because writing a queer novel was never my intention. I really just went with my instinct with Maali Almeida.
The novel seems to reflect a fascination with the afterlife. Does this have to do with growing up in a Buddhist family, or in a country where so many deaths are still unaccounted for?
The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida Shehan Karunatilaka 368pp, ~1,733
Penguin
This is a really interesting question, and I would love to answer it. I did some ghosthunting but I did not see much. What I found utterly captivating was the work of Sasanka Perera, a Sri Lankan anthropologist who lives and teaches in Delhi. His research shows that wherever there is trauma related to massacres, there are ghost stories. In some cases, the trauma is related to the civil war or mass abduction and killings. In other cases, the trauma comes from villages being ravaged by a natural disaster like the tsunami.
There are records of people in these areas narrating stories about seeing apparitions coming out of the sea. I got curious about this idea of restless souls wandering around and looking for closure while the living did not care much to hear their voices or push for pending murder investigations to be resolved.
What role has religion played in feeding your imagining of the afterlife?
I am a Sinhala Buddhist – a majoritarian oppressor in the context of Sri Lanka. Going to temples and participating in rituals was definitely a part of my childhood. When I was older, I went to an Anglican school in New Zealand. My grandmother is Christian, and so is my wife. Quite early in life, I had the impression that the wise guy in the robe that you are supposed to listen to is not all that wise. I do have a meditation app on my phone. I am interested in mindfulness. But as far as a religious identity is concerned, I am just nominally a Buddhist.
Have the hungry ghosts of Buddhist literature informed your writing?
Oh yes, of course they have! I encountered this aspect of Buddhism when I lived in Singapore, where people strongly believe in hungry ghosts, and also have a hungry ghost festival. My travels to Ladakh and Sikkim brought me into deeper contact with Mahayana Buddhism, which is quite different from the Theravada Buddhism that I grew up with. The pantheon of deities and the storytelling in Mahayana are far more interesting to me. I borrowed some elements from there.
Apart from that, I am also interested in near-death experiences, especially because of that trope of wandering into the light and waking up and hovering above your own body. I have taken from all these sources. I have read philosophers and religious people. I have watched horror movies. I have read up on rebirth in Eastern religions. The research process can be incredibly exciting if you like to learn new things.