Why do you post so goddam much?!?

DISCLAIMER: This has nothing to do with the Saunders or any of the other authors we have read this semester. Just a fun, short post to tie off this page as the school year comes to an end. Enjoy.

So, one of the most frequently asked questions I get is (as seen in the title): Maddie, why do you post blog posts so goddam much?!? Early on in the year, I used to answer: Well, I feel bad because I don’t participate much in class. This answer was true last year, where I only participated around once or twice a week. But, this year, not only did I keep up my prolific blogging, but I also tended to participate once or twice a day, sometimes even more. This is because I’m one of those people who can’t stand awkward silence, so I always feel an urge to fill the silence with some kind of comment, even if it is incoherent. (I’ve also been participating more because I want to be more engaged in class discussions, mostly because it helps with producing ideas for blog posts. See, it all comes around full circle). So, the excuse of me wanting to be more engaged in Mr. Mitchell’s class kind of fell through the roof. Now what do I say?

I don’t know why, but I find it pretty hard to admit to other people that I actually enjoy blogging. I mean, whenever I say this, I usually get responses like: Why? How do you have that much to say? Why would you do so much extra work? Well, the fact that I enjoy blogging is really only half true. I mean, yes, I  find it fun. (Although the fact that I only get comments on 1/4 posts is kind of a downer. But, I know that this is partly my fault, so I’ve gotten over it). But, I’m also one who believes in patterns and consistency. I won’t lie, there were definitely times when I didn’t want to post because I knew I didn’t have to. But, I also knew that I had posted 3 or 4 times the previous week and so I needed to be consistent this week too. It was painful at times, but it did teach me discipline and planning, as I would set apart blocks of time throughout my week to blog. I would definitely recommend consistent blogging (maybe not 4 times a week, but 2 at least) because of how beneficial it has been for me when it comes to planning out my week. (If it helps, my Junior year, I wrote one post a week. So, I wasn’t always this obsessed).

So, was my blogging a little excessive? You’re damn right it was. But, more than anything, I’m proud of it. I’m happy I can look back upon this page in later years and see what level my writing was at and what I was interested in. Why do I post so goddam much? I have no goddam clue. But, I’m proud I did it. It was all worth it in the end. (God that just sounds so cheesy. Sorry ya’ll). I don’t know if I’m going to keep up blogging while I’m not at Uni. I mean, like I said, I did enjoy it all, but half of that has to do with the material I was blogging about. Throughout my Junior and Senior English classes, there was only one book that I didn’t enjoy, and I was even able to find something to blog about that one too . (I won’t say which one though). Most of all the books I have read these past two years have been very intriguing and helpful in producing material to write posts on. This has been especially evident in this short story class, where potentially every story could inspire a new post (but even I’M not that crazy).

So, Juniors, if you need some inspiration for blog posts next year for Hero’s Journey and Coming of Age, just scroll down on this page and you’ll find my old ones. Like I said before, it’s pretty cool to have a sort of diary for myself and be able to read what my thoughts were during these last two year of high school. But, all in all, it’s been fun ya’ll. See ya! Happy blogging!

They Were Only Trying to Help

When discussing Saunders’ “The Red Bow” in class, I found myself wondering if the narrator of the story had any regrets about the craze that went about the town. I mean, things seem to escalate pretty quickly to the point where the whole town is opting to kill all the animals to get rid of this so called “disease” of some sort. Everything is just blown out of proportion, and the main culprit is Uncle Matt, who seems to show more interest in eradicating this disease than the narrator, whose daughter was the one who was killed by one of the dogs. Things get out of hand as the town seems rattled by the fact that they could be the next ones to die. Also, with mob mentality and all, everyone seems to side with Uncle Matt because who wants to be the one who's against avenging a little girl’s life? With this all in mind, the town goes with Uncle Matt and his plan, not thinking about the future consequences. But, the one question in my mind is: Looking back, does the narrator feel guilty for what happened? Or does he think it was the right thing to do?

There really is no right answer to this question, because the narrator seems to be some place in between the two extremes. But, personally, I believed that the narrator leans more towards feeling bad about the situation rather than believing that what they did was the right thing. See, the narrator recognizes that he didn’t really play a part in the action plan. It was basically all Uncle Matt’s doing (rallying up the people and such). And, he feels guilty about this because it was, in fact, his little girl in the red bow who was killed. He even admits that, “Uncle Matt hadn’t seen me carrying her inside either, having gone out to rend a video” (79). Even before, Uncle Matt was known to not like children that much. In fact, the narrator mentions that Uncle Matt even used to avoid kids. But now, he seems really into this little girl’s case. Why? Guilt, maybe. Feeling guilty for not being there. Or, feeling guilty because his dog did it. We don’t really know, but we do know that the narrator feels some sort of guilt of his own for not taking charge of this operation. It was his daughter, and all we see is him hiding in the background, being pulled from place to place by Uncle Matt. Now, this sort of behavior is acceptable because, if it were me, I would be in shock and probably unable to think straight. I think both the narrator and Uncle Matt were in shock about what had happened, and the narrator couldn’t think of anything to do, but Uncle Matt took charge and acted on the fly. He didn’t think about the repercussions, he just did what he thought would be right.

Thinking back, I think the narrator takes the blame for not stepping in and rationalizing the situation. “I don’t know, I found it deeply moving, that all of those good people would feel so fondly toward her, many of whom had not ever known her, and it seemed to me that somehow they had come to understand how good she had been, how precious, and were trying, with their applause, to honor her” (87). The keyword is “trying”. He doesn’t want to put the blame on these people for the terrible thing they have just done, because he knows they were just trying to help. Help out this girl they didn’t even know. Help this grieving man who is unsure of what to do. Help, in the best way they think they can. They are all rallying behind this “family of his that had been sadly and irreversibly malformed by this unimaginable and profound tragedy” (87). He knows that he can’t change things. He knows that, if he had had the chance, he would take certain things back. But, like he says, it’s all irreversible. They were only trying to help he and his family get some kind of redemption, while also trying to save the town.

It’s sad because, even now, it seems like the narrator is still grieving over what had happened. Not only with his little girl, but also with the aftermath. The craze that sent people flying over the roof. I mean, people went all out with the t shirts and fliers, mostly just to feel like they were part of the group and went against children dying, but still. It was, relatively, all for the narrator. So, with that in mind, the narrator believes that the blame is on him for letting things get out of hand and not stopping people when he had the chance. It was all because he was in this shock, this trans in which, since he couldn’t think of a solution, he just blindly accepted Uncle Matt’s plan, not thinking ahead about the inevitable repercussions. He supposedly let innocent animals be hurt while people were rallying behind his cause. It’s a huge burden to bear, especially since, on top of this whole situation, this was all revolving around his daughter and such, and so it makes him a very sympathetic character. Although I can see how some people may see the narrator as a little evil, thinking that he believe that what they did to the animals was right and just. But, personally, I see him more a regretful and terribly sad about the whole situation. He understands the motives behind everything, but the outcome is unsavory and irreversible, and so he must deal with this for the rest of his life.

This obviously isn’t a very happy story--in fact, it’s extremely sad--but Saunders does show how mob mentality can persuade people to do things that they wouldn’t normally deem as morally correct. You don’t want to be against the crowd, so you just go with it. And in this story’s case, things got out of hand very quickly with no one brave and clear minded enough to stop it all.

Happy Marriage. Happy Ending.

After reading Lahiri’s “The Third and Final Continent”, I found myself very pleased because we finally got a real, happy ending. I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the sad ones, but it’s nice to have a happy one every now and then. Now, all in all, one of the most satisfying aspects of this story is the marriage between the narrator and Mala. Initially, the marriage seems like it’s going to fall apart. “My wife’s name was Mala. The marriage had been arranged by my older brother and his wife. I regarded the proposition with neither objection nor enthusiasm” (181). I suppose it’s good that he did object to the marriage, but he wasn’t exactly happy about it either. He’s kind of like Sanjeev in “This Blessed House” in a sense, because he is just following the tradition. He knows he doesn’t love this woman, but it’s just what he must do. (Although Sanjeev thinks he loves Twinkle, not truly understanding what love actually is). In any case, the narrator continues to describe Mala in only a semi-flattering light. “I was told that she could cook, knit, embroider, sketch landscapes, and recipe poems by Tagore, but these talents could not make up for the fact that she did not possess a fair complexion, and so a string of men had rejected her to her face. She was twenty-seven, an age when her parents had begun to fear that she would never marry, and so they were willing to ship their only child halfway across the world in order to save her from spinsterhood” (181). When I first read this description, I thought that the narrator was trying to paint himself in a good light by saying that, by marrying this woman, he was doing her and her family a favor. If this story was truly written to be passed down to their son so her could learn of his father’s journey to the new world, I would have left this kind of part out. I mean, he comes across as kind of arrogant if anything. But, I suppose it is the truth. That no one wanted to marry Mala so he stepped up. Good for him, I guess.

So, initially, we are led to think that this marriage won’t work once Mala travels to America, and we aren’t necessarily wrong. In the beginning, their relationship is horrible. Even when still in India, the narrator explains how he and Mala shared a bed while in India, but he only let her because “custom dictated that she was now a part of [his] household” (181). And when Mala travels to America, the narrator picks her up at the airport, stating that he “did not embrace her, or kiss her, or take her hand” (191). He doesn’t show any sign of affection, he just picks her up and takes her to the home, a place that he’s worked very hard to be able to pay for. While at home, both the narrator at Mala seem very uncomfortably with each other. They aren’t used to each other’s company, and therefore tend to go through their days together, doing things without any emotion. Like when the narrator makes a copy of the key to their home for Mala. Usually, this would be a very pivotal moment in a relationship, but with this couple, it just seems mundane and boring. It’s obvious that they aren’t comfortable with each other, and therefore don’t show much emotion towards each other, when Mala’s sari slipped to her shoulders. She adjusts this immediately, but the narrator states that she doesn’t need to cover herself when she’s around him, to which she just keeps the sari on, not waiting to expose herself to her own husband, a man she barely even knows.

Now, this isn’t the first uncomfortable marriage we’ve seen in Lahiri’s book. As mentioned above, “This Blessed House” also involves an example of a marriage that is failing because the two people don’t know each other. In “This Blessed House”, Sanjeev and Twinkle got married after only four months of talking, so they never truly got to know each other. They rushed things, feeling outside pressure from family, and are now stuck in a situation where they find their true personalities incompatible. Although the ending is left open to interpretation, I initially assumed that Sanjeev and Twinkle wouldn’t make it. They just seem to have too many differences that are tearing them apart. But, after reading about Mala and her husband, I find myself having new hope for Sanjeev and Twinkle. I mean, if Mala and her husband can make it through their differences and unfamiliarity, I don’t see why Sanjeev and Twinkle can’t do the same. It just takes someone like Mrs. Croft to get them past their differences and find a spark in their relationship.

It’s quite interesting because the couple in “The Third and Final Continent” seem to stray from the norm. “This Blessed House” isn’t the only story where we can see marriages failing. The theme begins in the first story, “Temporary Matter”, continues to “Interpreter of Maladies”, to “Sexy”, to kind of “Mrs. Sen”, to “This Blessed House”, and finally, to “The Third and Final Continent”. Six out of nine of these stories involve failing marriages, but, the final story is able to show how a couple can pull through. It shows what could happen if each of the stories were to be continued. See, we are only given snapshots into the life of these characters of each respective story. We don't’ know what happens in the end, so we just infer from the text given. But, “The Third and Final Continent” gives us new information and inspiration for all of these stories. Who knows, maybe Shoba and Shukumar will pull through (in the light instead of the dark), or Mr. and Mrs. Das will rekindle their love, or Miranda will find love while Dev learns to be faithful towards his wife, or Sanjeev and Twinkle will learn to look past their differences and see why they connected in the first place. This rarity of a happy ending has left me wanting to assume the best in almost every story we have been given. It inspires the other characters to find their similarities, instead of focusing on their differences. In Mala’s and her husband’s case, they were able to connect through their senses of humor. This connection both combats the stereotype that arranged marriages can’t be happy, while also tackling that we only read sad stories in this class. (Don’t get me wrong, they are interesting stories. Just sad). This leaves a happy tale for their son to see and become inspired by. (Also, this may be one of the most uplifting and optimistic blogpost I’ve written for this class. Thanks Lahiri!)

you ain’t messing with my click

It’s interesting that in Lahiri’s “The Treatment of Bibi Haldar”, we experience, for the second time, a person who is different from the rest of the community and is treated as an outsider, never fully accepted. In Bibi Haldar’s case, she has this mystery, medical condition that no doctor can seem to figure out. “For the greater number of her twenty-nine years, Bibi Haldar suffered from an ailment that baffled family, friends, priests, palmists, spinsters, gem therapists, prophets, and fools” (158). She is seen as an outcast because, at any given time, she could begin to seize uncontrollably. Ever since her father died, she is even isolated from the her cousins who house her, especially the wife of the house, for she believes that Bibi is a danger to everyone, convinced that “the devil himself possessed her” (163). Even when Bibi is prescribed the treatment of marriage, her cousins aren’t in support. Assumably Bibi’s cousins, Haldar and his wife, would jump at any chance to get rid of Bibi. But, when asked if they would support the decision to find Bibi and husband, they respond that, “Bibi possesses insufficient quantities of respect and self-control. She plays up her malady for the attention. The best thing is the keep her occupied, away from the trouble she invariably creates” (164). They also complain that they do not want to pay for the wedding expenses, if there even is a wedding. And, even when Haldar does cave in, he publishes a one line advertisement in the town newspaper reading, “Girl, unstable, height 152 centimetres, seeks husband” (165). Now, I’m not one to judge, but that is one of the most pathetic advertisements for a groom that I have ever seen. Not only is the fact that the advertisement is only one line pitiful, but also the use of the word “unstable”. That word just raises a red flag in any potential husband’s mind. So, it came as no surprise that no one responded to the ad.

But, this is all okay, because Bibi seems to have this group of people on her side. The narrative voice seems to be this collective group of people who support Bibi. She’s got her own little support system I suppose. So, Bibi should be fine if her cousins don’t accept her because she’s got her posse with her, right? Unfortunately, I am not completely sold. I just don’t buy into the fact that this group of people is being nice to Bibi because they like her. I just see them as telling stories and making themselves out to be the good guys. They say that they helped this poor, ugly, unstable girl find a cure to her unexplainable condition. Obviously, if it weren’t for them, Bibi wouldn’t have a happy ending to her story. (To the best of their knowledge, of course). Bibi had a child and is cured because of it, so who cares who the father is. It’s the end result that matters, right? I suppose that’s all that matters to these people, but as a reader, I kept asking how the hell she got this baby. And because of how dark the stories we’ve read this year have been, I generally just assume the worst. Because of this, I don’t tend to think of the end of Bibi’s story being generally happy. I mean, it just seems like the group of people (of which I just assumed was just some gossipy women) like Bibi because she’s entertaining and makes a good story, not because they care about her. So, when she begins to ignore them, they assume that she’s doing just fine. “She was, to the best of our knowledge, cured” (172).

Now, this isn’t the first time we’ve encountered a group of people who both interest themselves with, and then exclude, a person who seems different from the rest of them. In “A Real Durwan”, Boori Ma is the outsider of the community. The residents feel like they are doing her a favor by appointing her the durwan of their community and letting her sweep the stairs and guard the gate. When, in reality, Boori Ma used to live a lavish life, full of servants and weddings and such. But, she lost it all and now must be this “durwan” of this community who don’t really seem to respect her and acknowledge her true past. But, when she doesn’t fulfill her duties, they throw her out onto the streets. Now, for Bibi, the story doesn’t really take that direct of a turn, but the group that was initially interesting in what happened to Bibi, while also being intent on helping her out when needed, now just assumes that everything is fine and dandy. They abandon her, just like the community did to Boori Ma. They didn’t even take the time to hear her story and find out who the dad is, they just assumed that things will be fine when she is on her own.

Throughout this book, it’s interesting to see how India and America are portrayed. Through these two stories, it’s obvious that India is a more communal place than America, but there’s always those people who don’t fit into the group. As Mr. Mitchell said, this is kind of similar to Mean Girls. And so, going off that comparison, if that one person upsets the click, they will be throw out and left behind by the community. In Boori Ma’s case, she has proved to be less useful than before to the community, seemingly letting robbers through the gates. So, she is thrown out because she is causing more trouble than solving. In Bibi’s case, her seizures are seemingly cured, so she can no longer be the group’s pity case. She can live on her own, so they leave her, assuming that everything will be alright. In both of these cases, we see this seemingly close knit crowd that happens to be a pretty exclusive group. They love a quality story with a happy ending that puts them in a good light. So, although Lahiri tends to pain India in a better light than America (except for the last story), it’s still interesting to see that even India has its downfalls in this book.

Polar Opposites

When reading Lahiri’s “This Blessed House”, it’s interesting to wonder how two people, such as Sanjeev and Twinkle, who are seemingly polar opposites, somehow attract and decide to marry and live together. Although it is true that Sanjeev felt a lot of pressure from his family to get married, this marriage wasn’t a total set up. He and Twinkled had talked on the phone for four months before they got married. But, even then, Sanjeev just assumed that this was what love was all about, having never been completely in love himself. He just assumed that the connection he had with this Stanford girl was love, and so he went with it. So, knowing all of this, why does Sanjeev seem to hate Twinkle?

I mean, the obvious reason is that she just seems so different from him. Sanjeev is a very traditional, customary person, wanting to follow the rules at any and every point in time, even if they are unspoken. He believes that you marry who you love, so, since he and Twinkle are married, they love each other. But, with this, we can see that this kind of rule isn’t always applicable, especially in Sanjeev’s and Twinkle’s case. He sees Twinkle as childish, which she kind of is. “He looked at her face, which, it occurred to him, had not grown out of its girlhood...nicknamed after a nursery rhyme, she had yet to shed a childhood endearment” (142). From the way she crossing her fingers to how she gets excited over any given thing, Sanjeev can’t seem to figure Twinkle out, or even really relate to her.

He also believes that one shouldn’t display Christ memorabilia around their house if they aren’t Christian. In fact, this seems to be a very touchy subject in their household, proving to be the starting point for their arguments. Interestingly enough, I can’t seem to side with either person on this matter. On Sanjeev’s side, Twinkle seems utterly ridiculous. She is literally placing all these hidden Christian objects all around the house, even though they aren't aven Christian. Granted, these objects are pretty gaudy, including a snowglobe, a poster, and a huge ass, silver bust of Christ. But still, I understand Sanjeev’s pain. I mean, I wouldn’t want all these meaningless objects displayed around my house if I wasn’t Christian. And even though I am Christian, I still don’t think I would want a Christian snowglobe or huge, silver Christ bust hanging around my house. But, at the same time, I can also see where Twinkle is coming from. Sanjeev seems like such a controlling (but not in a dominating way) figure. He wants his house to be traditional, because that’s how he was raised. He doesn’t want these Christian items displayed around his house because they would send the wrong message. But, Twinkle isn’t trying to convert to a Christian, these objects just humor her. She finds it funny that they aren’t Christian, and yet they have a gigantic bust of Christ hanging around the house. It makes people question them, which humors Twinkle, but annoys Sanjeev. This whole situation just comes to show just how different Twinkle’s and Sanjeev’s personalities are. They don’t have the same sense of humor, in fact, I’m not even sure if Sanjeev has much of a sense of humor. He seems like a pretty serious man.

This conflict of personalities all boils down to how traditional Sanjeev seems to be, unable to comfortably stray from the norm. Whereas Twinkle is pretty spontaneous and outgoing, not afraid to travel into the unknown, even if it is uncomfortable. This is evident in the party scene, where Sanjeev assumes, since he is the man of the house, that he will be the head of the party. Even though he doesn’t really know his coworkers, he was used men being the host of the party, the one who is making conversation with all the guests, entertaining them. But, instead, Twinkle seems to take the lead and becomes the life of the party. All the guests are entertained by her, especially when she sends them on a treasure hunt to find any other hidden Christian gems. This all happens while Sanjeev is filling people’s drinks and hanging out in the kitchen. He separates himself from the party, initially worried about what people think about the random, religious objects sprawled about the house, but then later he just seems to be brooding, assumably bothered by the fact that Twinkle seems to have taken over this social affair. Sanjeev is uncomfortable with the fact that the woman of the house is taking the lead because it isn’t the traditional way. It’s not what he’s used to, so he becomes annoyed.

Knowing all of this, it’s interesting to wonder if Sanjeev and Twinkle will stay together. I mean, it’s obvious that they don’t know each other very well, but, granted, it is very early on in the relationship. Over time, perhaps, Sanjeev will learn to accept Twinkle for who she is and not be so strict. On the flip side, maybe Twinkle will also let up on the Christian things, because she knows that Sanjeev isn’t really a big fan of them. At this point in their relationship, it all boils down to the fact that they both want different things out of his relationship and are both not very good at communicating this. Twinkle wants to be free and Sanjeev wants to feel grounded. But, they can’t seem to communicate this so they end up becoming more and more distant from each other.

So, although some people in class believed that there was a positive ending to the story; that Sanjeev was beginning to understand Twinkle’s personality and therefore was able to accept her for who she is, I’m not entirely sure of this. Yes, I think Sanjeev realized that there was no use in trying to change Twinkle, but I don’t think he was entirely okay with her and all of her quirks. For now, it seems like he is just going to settle with her for who she is, until the day that she sends him overboard. It helps that he appreciates her looks, along with the guests at the party, but I’m not sure he will ever be entirely okay with her personality. Their relationship just seemed doomed from the start because they rushed things. I guess her quirky characteristics didn’t really come through over the phone, but now that Sanjeev is living with her, he can see that they aren’t really compatible. But, it is unclear what will truly happen to them, although in the typical Lahiri marriage trend, I’m not sure things will be okay in the end.

False Kindness

In class we discussed how the community in Lahiri’s “A Real Durwan” treats Boori Ma. In the beginning, we are introduced to Boori Ma as the stair sweeper and gatekeeper of some sort, a durwan, of this old, brick building. The residents of this building, in exchange for her services, allow Boori Ma to sleep in front of the collapsible gate leading into the tenement. While sweeping, Borri Ma narrates stories of her past: her daughter’s extravagant wedding, her servants, her estate, and her riches. But, because she has told the stories so many times, and often forgets things or changes the stories at times, the community believes that she is just making up these stories. They don’t believe that a woman like Boori Ma could have ever been wealthy and then ended up a stair sweeper.

Now, they don’t think that she just pulled these ideas out of thin air. “The theory eventually circulated that Boori Ma had once worked as hired help for a prosperous zamindar back east, and was therefore capable of exaggerating her past at such elaborate lengths and heights” (73). But, even though the residents believe that her stories don’t accurately reflect her past, they do enjoy listening to them at times because of how entertaining they are. But her stories aren’t what allowed her to live there. The community felt safer having Boori Ma stand in between the gate, seemingly watching over the residents. Even though the building was old and there really wasn’t anything worth stealing, they still enjoyed that extra comfort of knowing that Boori Ma was there if anyone tried to break in. In fact, initially, the residents had just given Boori Ma the title of “durwan” just they could say she had a job. But, as time went on, “Boori Ma’s services came to resemble those of a real durwan” (73). Even though she was this frail, old woman, she was beginning to become a real durwan for this community. And giving this title to Boori Ma seemed to make the community happy. For her services, they give her a place to stay, a fancy title, and she can even come into their homes (but god forbid she touch the furniture). It’s almost like the residents refuse to accept the fact that Boori Ma had a prosperous past, because then their efforts to “help” her would seem less meaningful if they accepted the fact that she had a painful background, full of loss. They like the fact that they are all financially equal, except for Boori Ma, which, out of the “goodness of their hearts”, they decide help her, since she is apparently less fortunate than them.

But things change once Mr. Dalals gets promoted at work, and so he improves the brick building by installing a sink in the stairwell and a sink in his home. The Dalals continue to improves their home and even go away on a trip to Simla for ten days, promising the bring home a sheep’s hair blanket for Boori Ma. Needless to say, this sudden influx of money for the Dalals throws off the whole economic balance among the residents. They were used to all being equal, and Boori Ma being below them, but now, the Dalals have a higher economic status, and will assumably bring Boori Ma up the ladder with them. This would upset the system, the the residents frantically try to remodel their own places. So, with all the people passing through the gates because of all the remodeling being done to the building, Boori Ma is forced to reside up on the roof. Now, before this, her living conditions weren’t very comfortable, but, they are even worse on the roof top. She finds herself wishing for the Dalals to return with her new bed. In fact, she becomes so restless, that she begins to take walks around the neighborhood for some exercise. She even spends some of her life savings in the market and things are fine until the rest of her life savings and her set of keys are stolen. “It was there, while she was standing in a shopping arcade surveying jackfruits and persimmons, that she felt something tugging on the free end of her sari. When she looked, the rest of her life savings and her skeleton keys were gone” (81).

As she returns to her “home”, she finds all the residents waiting for her. They tell her that the sink in the stairwell has been stolen, and that it’s all Boori Ma’s fault. They accuse her of informing the robbers and in negligence for her job. This is ironic, because they never really acknowledged her as a real durwan. They use is as sort of a playful term, like they are doing Boori Ma a service by giving her a seemingly fancy title and allowing her to sleep by their stairwell. Either way, no matter how much Boori Ma tries to explain herself, the residents continue to accuse her because of all her previous inconsistent stories. The residents’ obsession with materializing the building dimmed their focus on the remaining members of their community, like Boori Ma. They exclaim that they need a real durwan, someone who will truly protect them and their possessions. So, “the residents tossed her bucket and rags, her baskets and reed broom, down the stairwell, past the letter boxes, through the collapsible gate, and into the alley. Then they tossed out Boori Ma. All were eager to begin their search for a real durwan” (82). They throw her out, thinking that she abused their kindness and doesn’t deserve it anymore.

At the end of this story, I just found myself despising the residents. I mean, they truly believe that what they are doing to Boori Ma is a great service by allowing her to come into their rooms (not allowing her to touch anything) and giving her the fancy title of “durwan” of the building. She’s just this old woman who has lived a hard life. But, the residents don’t want to accept her troubling background because then that would make them feel bad about how they treat her. They call her a liar in the end, throwing her out because she didn’t do her “duties” when in reality, is it their fault that they allowed so many people to walk in and out of the building because they wanted to make their own renovations. Their obsession with material possessions got the best of them as greed took over and caused them to throw this poor woman into the streets. My hope would be that the Dalals return and allow Boori Ma to live with them until she can get back on to her feet and save up again, but, like most stories we have read this semester, I don’t think this will be the case.

I Can't Make Up My Mind

So, after reading Lahiri’s “Sexy”, I’m pretty sure we all had a little dejavu moment. Miranda’s situation with Dev seems very similar to Lorrie’s Moore’s characters in “How to Be an Other Woman”. But, in Moore’s story, I could easily state that the man is being very manipulative and womanizer, making him an unfavorable character. But, in “Sexy”, I honestly don’t know what to think about Dev. I mean, I feel like he’s being a little bit manipulative of Miranda, but I’m not totally sold. In Moore’s story, it was obvious that the male character was an awful person, as he was dating more than one person at the same time. But, somehow, Dev seems different. There are two ways one could read this character, and I’m not sure which one is more prominent.

First, Dev is manipulative. He has a formulaic method in which he woos Miranda, seeming like he’s done this kind of thing before. Initially, Dev and Miranda’s meeting sounded a little like Moore’s story. Miranda didn’t mean to meet and fall in love with a married man, but it’s just how it happened, and it could have happened to anyone. You don’t plan on it, but this is how things pan out. Miranda met Dev in a makeup store, which, unless he is a drag queen of some sorts, should have been some kind of red flag. One could assume that he was buying makeup for his girlfriend or wife as a gift of some sort, but this didn’t seem to bother Miranda. Although Miranda shouldn’t be totally at fault, because once she and Dev make eye contact, it seems like he is coming on to her, so one wouldn’t assume that he was already in a relationship. It isn’t until Miranda inquires who he is buying the makeup for, that she finds out that he is a married man. “‘They’re for my wife.’ He uttered the words slowly, holding Miranda’s gaze. ‘She’s going to India for a few weeks.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘She’s addicted to this stuff’” (88). It’s almost like Dev is watching to see how Miranda will act after hearing this startling news. If she were to act negatively, assumably he would back off, but since she seems to be okay with this information, he accompanied her on her way out, and continued to maintain a relationship with her, while he wife was away on a different continent.

But this isn’t the only weird thing that Dev does. Later on in their relationship, Miranda admits that Dev seems to call her on a very precise schedule. “Once he learned Miranda’s schedule he left her a message each evening at five-thirty, when she was on the T coming back to her apartment, just so, he said, she could hear his voice as soon as she walked through the door” (88). Okay, now this is just plain creepy. I mean, I can see how this could seem kind of endearing, but I would be creeped out if someone did this to me. It’s almost like he’s trying to make sure that he is all she thinks about. And he’s successful, because as time goes on, all Miranda can think about is the time she will be spending with Dev later on in the day. Even when Dev’s wife returns, she begins to only look forward to her special time with Dev on Sundays. He tells her things that he admires about her, including her long legs, making her fall deeper and deeper in love with him. Even when the wife comes back, and Dev only shows up on Sundays in his workout clothes, Miranda still finds herself wanting and waiting for him to come over. But, even though Miranda’s love for Dev was growing as she fantasized him divorcing his wife and being with her, Dev seemed to become distant, trying to juggle two women whom he cared about. He still loved his wife, which would make Miranda the forever “other” woman.

But, if you think about it in another way, Dev isn’t all so bad. He tells Miranda that he knows what it’s like being lonely when she explains to him how she moved to Boston, even though she didn’t know anyone there at the time. This statement could be taken as Dev still trying to play into Miranda’s emotions, but I saw it as sweet because he’s opening up to Miranda. He tells her how he relates to not knowing anyone and no one truly knowing him. This resonates with Miranda as she says that “at that moment Miranda felt that she understood her” (89). In a sense, one could argue that Dev realized that Miranda was lonely and struggling to find her way in Boston, a place she feels like a stranger in constantly. (Although she does have friends, like Laxmi, she still feels at least a little bit lonely). Because of this, he tried to connect with her, and help her solve her problems on her own. Once she realizes that she doesn’t need to be with him everyday, or even every Sunday, Dev begins to back off. Miranda is able to live her life without constantly thinking about Dev, she can be a successful, independent woman. This is why Dev doesn’t fight it when Miranda cancels on their Sunday plans for three weeks in a row. Although he did like her (maybe even love her), he knows it’s best that they be separated, for her sake.

So, all in all, I don’t know if I’m reading into this story a little too much, but I think Dev is a pretty complicated character whom, in my opinion, we don’t get enough information about. Lahiri purposefully gives us limited information on Dev, prompting us to form our own opinions on him. I can’t decide whether I like his character or not, because I’m not sure if he’s manipulative or trying to be helpful. Either way, I don’t see Dev in a negative or positive light, unlike the character in Moore’s story.