What happens when ordinary people are forced to become experts in their own devastation? Adrija Chatterjee’s debut collection Pilgrims of Reflection, a short story collection, asks this question across seven stories, never offering easy answers.

The last few years have been very difficult for India’s middle class. They have been through the pandemic through grief, longing, pain, separation, coldness, and increasing class differences at a velocity perhaps greater than at any time in the past. 

How does an ordinary person react to extraordinary circumstances in their lives? What happens when a sudden and unstoppable force jolts you out of the mundane rhythm of your life? Do you still carry on? Or lie down in a foetal position and wait for the storm to pass over? Or do you keep walking, one foot at a time, trying to cover the journey slowly. 

The author has thrust a blanket of misfortune upon her characters and we watch as they poke holes into it, trying to come out of its shadow.

Here are the three stories that stayed with me

What stood out in ‘Sacred Spaces’ from the short story collection?

A story with one of the most complex emotions, Sacred Spaces is about three people who pick up the pieces of their life after an abortion. The emotions here are raw, the people hurt and their lives dismantled. 

“It was again the same dream for Meera. The one where she walked past the tramline. The tram passed close by. There were people inside, whose faces obliterated slowly, faces she never knew. Yet probably each one of them had her father Sudhir in them. Meera felt cold as she woke up, her only comfort was the darkness, which probably allowed her to stay with Sudhir sometime longer. She no longer liked the tram.”

The intent of these stories is akin to that of art: to give comfort to the uncomfortable and discomfort to those cocooned in soft cushions of privilege. The author maintains the high voltage stakes throughout, without losing the layering of the story. 

The author has rooted the stories deep in the darkness of mystery and human complexities. With every passing revelation, more darkness emerges from the depth of the story, egging the reader on and on. Have a look:

“There was no mild slamming of the door, instead, she had shut them more silent than ever. He was confused over the engagements he could explore in his leisure time, that moment on. As he searched for the new single quilt they had purchased last autumn, he found a sweater Nalini once knitted for Naveen.”

About the story ‘Cities that Walked‘

In ‘Cities that walked’, a severely ill girl must tolerate the jibes of a woman at whose home she has to recuperate. The behaviour of the man of the house, who has brought the girl, is not something to write songs about, too. 

This story, happening during pandemic, builds up an oppressive atmospherics of confinement bordering on imprisonment. Is it harassment if the person lodged in your home can’t move out and you won’t treat them like you would expect yourself to be treated? The author writes:

“The ceiling looks mottled with that patchy mildew, you try to comprehend the extent of negligence responsible for that. Happens, you think, especially in such overwhelming times when the country has been locked down for something as unprecedented as a pandemic. 

Almost eight, time for arranging her dinner and it doesn’t matter if your bones ache from the incessant household chores for the day. The dinner has to be meticulous, lentil soup and vegetables, grilled fillet of mackerel, which you weigh down to an exact portion size of one hundred and twenty grams.”

Short Story titled ‘Apology‘

In Apology, an incident of violence at school leads to unravelling of a relationship: 

“You are tempted to ask about Sorasis, how close has she known this man, whether she liked the scent lurking in his collar. But you don’t. Wonder if that’s fear of unwrapping the scents you too have been hiding? She never looks towards you directly from that pillow.”

The author’s writing, in many passages and pages, flickers like a flame, words burning themselves upon my reader’s palate while I try and not let my wings singe like a common moth. Thick with drama of real emotions, the story imitates life up to an extent. 

My only grouse is that sometimes the writer’s thoughts become too lost with the character’s thoughts. The thread that the story has to follow meanders a bit, only to come back on to track after a few misfires.

The special thing about a short story collection

Short stories catch people living their lives in flashes. For a reader, that is me, the protagonists of a short story are living either their best or their worst lives. Contrary to a novel where characters get at least 80,000 words to create the ebbs and flows of their lives, a short story is a rollercoaster of a ride. Here either you are happy or sad or plain disappointed. The author carries the onus that you don’t end up the lattermost. 

This collection of short stories will make you acquainted with the surprises and shocks life can deal you.

Disclaimer: Purple Pencil Project received monetary compensation to publish this review. It has not affected our final review.