Review: The Secret of More byTejaswini Apte-Rahm
Set in the early 20th century, this is a saga of ambition, love, loss and betrayal and of one man’s pioneering spirit
There is an introspective moment in Tejaswini Apte-Rahm’s The Secret of More where the protagonist, Tatya, stands before the painted board of his new company. “Pride? Excitement? Yes and yes, but he could detect something else too. It was the feeling of power, as if could go anywhere and do anything because he had just proved that he could create something out of nothing.That he could launch his own boats on to the high seas.” It is a sentiment that comes to define his persona as well as be a leitmotif for the story.
The Secret of More is a rich saga of ambition, love, loss and betrayal, and as much a tale of one man’s pioneering spirit as a story that captures the mood and texture of a bygone era. Sketched on a sepia-toned canvas, the novel also pays tribute to a city and the values it cherishes. Set in the 1900s, it opens with the arrival of Govind ‘Tatya’ Abhyankar in the bylanes of Bombay in the summer of 1899.
Armed with a pocketful of dreams, the boy on the cusp of adulthood, seeks an apprenticeship at Mulji Jetha Market, the largest wholesale cloth trading market in the continent. At the turn of the century, the textile industry is booming, and Tatya finds himself in the right place at the right time. Blessed with a mix of business acumen and perseverance, he sets about acquiring and conquering; from being an apprentice to a selling agent, to becoming a name to reckon with in the textile industry, forging profitable partnerships along the way. Tatya’s character embodies the spirit of Bombay, a city that feeds the desire to be more and have more, and rewards those that dare. Most of his ventures grant him success as he and his peers steer themselves through the boom and the vagaries of colonial times.
When he gets his first taste of a new invention that magically recreates life, albeit silently on a screen inside a tent, he is intrigued. “They had never seen anything like it. How did those paintings move? They were works of art, lovingly rendered down to the minutest detail. What a strange illusion it was, sitting in the darkness watching the glorious adventures of Ram playing out on the canvas in front of them.” Enticed by the potential of the ‘bioscope’ and witnessing Dadasaheb Phalke’s success, he embarks on a fresh adventure of investing in this innovation. Tatya transcends from being a successful businessman to a visionary.
With prosperity comes upward mobility. The extended family moves from the chaos and easy familiarity of the Maharashtrian-heavy Khatryanchi chawl to the apartment at the cosmopolitan Jamshedji Mansion to finally Greenglades, the large house overlooking the sea, where they rub shoulders with a royal family. The various chapters of Tatya’s life are pieced together across alternating sections: events as they take place in a chronological order, and of an older Tatya reminiscing about his life.
Apte-Rahim brings to life a bygone era and the inner lives of characters with her forte for detailing, be it the workings of a textile market or the early film-making days in India. There is remarkable authenticity in the way she writes about Maharashtrian customs and traditions, festivities and food habits, with her liberal usage of the Marathi idiom. She also highlights the role that caste and community play. Zaveri, Tatya’s mentor at the Mulji Jetha Market says to him in their initial interaction:”You know this market is dominated by Gujaratis. It is rare indeed to have a Marathi man working here.” Radha, Tatya’s wife is aghast when her husband suggests she invite the wives of his Gujarati fellow businessmen for haldi kunku, a festive social gathering of women:”’They are not Brahmins like us, are they?’ said Radha, bemused.’How can we have them eat in our house?’”
The writer lays bare the social fabric of the times, especially through the various female characters, while also examining women’s agency. The women lead a cloistered existence. Radha rules the house and kitchen with consummate ease; but her carefully nurtured universe never comes into contact with the outer professional world run by men, nor is she permitted to step foot in it. Women have no right to be there. Rare ones, like the actress Kamal bai that step into all-male spaces, are subjected to attention ranging from fawning adoration to aspersions cast on their character and reputation. At the other end of the spectrum is the widowed Mai, Radha’s astute mother, who guides and nudges her daughter through life, but has to stay away from all auspicious occasions. Apte-Rahm sensitively and objectively balances the wretched plight of menstruating women with the bewildered mind of a child-bride who is also eager to be with her adult husband. As the narrative and timelines progress in the narrative, so does the condition of women over the years. The feisty Durga, Radha and Tatya’s daughter, has a better exposure to the world, education and opportunities than her mother’s generation.
Perhaps the more nuanced of the many relationships in the book are the one between Tatya and Radha, and the one between Durga and Tatya. The former evolves into something quietly solid, shaped from a lifetime of togetherness that has weathered many a storm. The latter, a father-daughter bond, is a significant representation of the changing times. Of equal poignancy is the bond between Tatya and Kamal bai, the leading lady of his films.
Apte-Rahm stays true to the genre of historical fiction: passages describe in detail the visit Tatya makes with his young son, brother and nephew to Apollo Bunder to catch a glimpse of the procession of King George V during his 1911 visit to Bombay, the upheavals faced by the textile markets during World War I, the innovations in early movie-making, the historic moment of India’s independence, among several. Apte-Rahm’s prose is both straightforward and evocative. The occasional lyrical note only enhances the story-telling. In the winter of his life, after having chased success all throughout, Tatya ruminates:”Adult lives were so overshadowed by plans and intentions that the life inside, the warm, beating life seemed like just one more facet of a person, like a limb or a liver, assigned to its particular job. But in children–and in animals–life was the very thing, the only thing, expressed in the laughter of limbs, thirst of throat, sun on skin.” Apte-Rahm’s sensibility is one of cinematic grandeur. The Secret of More is a tour de force and merits applause.
Sonali Mujumdar is an independent journalist. She lives in Mumbai.
