'Meesha', the book, had a fate almost similar to that of Meesha, the character, as far as the myths surrounding them are concerned. Just like how the myth about moustached Vavachan spread from one person to another, growing in size and power with every such passing, the one about the book being filled with anti-Hindu vitriol gained so much credence that the Mathrubhumi weekly which was serialising it was forced to stop it midway. One of the most talked about books in Malayalam in recent years would not have seen the light of the day if not for a publisher who knows how to cash in on the outrage market.
Infact, one would not even notice the few lines from the book that were used by the right wingers to manufacture a controversy and hunt the writer S.Hareesh, if not for the controversy. It appears as just another throwaway line in a conversation, which does not have anything to do with the larger story. The core story is centred on Vavachan, who grows a moustache to act as policeman in a blink-and-miss role in a play and decides not to shave it. The act of someone from the Pulaya caste growing a moustache, even for a play, was enough to invite anger from the upper castes.
Vavachan and his meesha soon becomes a myth, equally feared and respected, depending on which side you are on. In folk songs and stories, it is a shapeshifting moustache which at once is big enough to stretch across a stream or dense enough for birds to nest. Along with these grow the myths of the people around him, like that of Seetha's celebrating their 'love'. Some are out on a hunt for him, while others yearn that he appears before them. One of those out for the hunt in the backwaters ends up with his two legs protruding outside from the mud, in one of the memorable images from the book, which is filled with several such images.
Yet, some of the parts can be a hard read too, like the horrific rape of Seetha or the many scenes that represent toxic masculinity, with the author presenting it with a detached eye. The introduction of too many characters in each of the succeeding chapters can be bewildering to keep track of. But these are but minor quibbles when compared to what Hareesh achieves here, a tale of universal appeal that draws much on the folk tales of this specific region in Kuttanad. The flora, fauna, the people, living and dead and the history becomes a tool that can be shaped according to the needs of a writer who is at the heights of his powers.
Speaking about history, he has blended in seamlessly the stories of the Baker family or N.N.Pillai or one of the old Travancore royals with a bent for medicine, and who made the people around him objects for his experiments, and quite a few others. It is like using found footage for a documentary, but you should know where to fit each in, which Hareesh clearly knows.
Kuttanad’s landscape also is treated as he would a character, building it with a lot of details and almost evoking the feeling of an all powerful human, especially when he writes about its vast expanse of similar looking paddy fields, which can disorient one and make one get lost. All the descriptions of the landscapes, the fishes and the other landscapes which populate it, some of which get destroyed here due to human action, could also make one consider it as an ‘eco-novel’. The moving tale of the last surviving crocodile could even work separately as a stand-alone story.
For a novel situated amid Kerala’s rice bowl, hunger is also ever present in the novel, with people making do with whatever they can find. That this was also the reality for a considerable section of the population in Kerala within the past century could be hard for many today to believe.
I have come to admire Hareesh’s writing from the time I read his story collection ‘Adam’ and the second collection ‘Appan’. In ‘Meesha’, he more than lives up to the promise that he showed with those first two collections. It is a novel that opens doors to interpretation on several levels and on a wide variety of subjects. Let none of those doors be closed by obscurantists and bigots, whose only aim is to create social tension, which they think would be a vehicle for power. It is in a way ironic that those who survive based on myths and fake news, would take up arms against a novel which is about the idea of myth making.