Australian writer, J.W. McMillan has edited the novel. He says, "Dr Mallikarjun Patil weaves the story of a young man and two sisters into an account of the disastrous earthquake in Gujarat in January 2001 and shows the many ramifications in the lives of those involved. He depicts some of the darker shades of human nature as it reacts to disaster. It is a book to be read more than once."
Prof. Malcolm McKinnon's (of Victoria University, Wellington) has written a foreword. He says, "When The Ground Shakes Beneath, is a novel that will meet with recognition and pleasure from many readers outside India."
Synopsis: The novel is a work of imagination, though it is based on a national disaster, an earthquake that devastated Gujarat in 2001, so badly that it killed thirty thousand people in a minute, destroying their lifetime dreams. The earthquake's destruction was like a horror movie.
The tragedy was enormous. Collapsed houses everywhere and thousands of dead bodies wherever one could see. Crowds, confusion and chaos. The goal of Gujarat, if there was one as a shattering metaphor of tragedy, then it was this. All the people were in trouble. Women dreaded the calamity as if they were in hell. Children convulsed into tears amidst rubble. An utter nightmare where all lost all. Gujarat became a wasteland.
Before this happened, Vinod Kanha, a Bangalorean studying in Ahmedabad for an MBA, fell in love with his classmate Geetabehn and married her. Alas! The very next day when they were about to go to Nainital for their honeymoon, the ground shook beneath them. Vinod lost his wife in the earthquake and later on, he married her sister Rasmibehn. Rasmi, as he called her, was a vivacious young lady. The story is an enactment of human drama in the background of an earthquake tragedy. The writer shows how joy and sorrow go together, and how man is a puppet in the hands of a powerful fate, which is indifferent to human wishes whatsoever. The novel abounds in suspense, humour, human faiths and failings. One must read it!
Chapter-1 A Man on the Run
The most important thing in life is neither love nor desires but the fulfilment of basic needs.
When people fall short of resources to fulfill their needs, they migrate to a big city like Bangalore.
Bangalore, the capital of Karnataka, is one of India's most charming cities. Today, it is India's fifth largest city. It is known for its science and commerce. It has many national institutions. Its plains, hills and lakes are studded with beauty, as it has an ideal climate. It is the country's ‘Garden City.’
Before the British Raj, Bangalore was, on and off, the capital of the erstwhile Mysore State, and like the Westminster Abbey, it witnessed monarchs' coronations and reigns.
Kempe Gouda, a Vijayanagar chieftain, founded Bangalore in 1537. Bangalore is a planned city which has exceeded the limits set by its founder.
Aptly named a ‘Garden City’, it boasts of an amazing number of flowering trees and parks. With splendid pink cassias and golden acacias blooming, with jacarandas flowering in purple majesty and gul-mahurs lighting the roads with their flame-orange brilliance, the city is a delight to wander around. It is like a heaven on earth.
Bangalore is a shoppers' paradise. It is an ideal starting point of an exciting exploration of the fascinating, architecturally rich heritage of south India. It's a wonderful place to work and live in.
In this ‘Garden City’ was born Vinod Kanha, an MBA graduate at IIM-Ahmedabad, a happy and healthy man who was twenty-four years when our story begins.
What made Geetabehn look at Vinod so often was not only his talents and pleasant character but also his good looks. He looked like an actor in a Hindi film. In fact, this haunted her sometimes, particularly today when they were riding on a 'Devil's Wheel,' trying to touch each other in the air in an instant of ephemeral intimacy and then pushing each other away, as they swung on chains. Their song went on:
"Just remember long ago in spring
We're riding in the park on the Devil's Wheel
Devil's Wheel, Devil's Wheel
And your face is flying close to me
Oh! Now too we're swinging on the chains,
I'm flying, Oh! "
"Who can take this love from us?" Geetabehn said interrupting the song.
"Nobody!" Vinod burst out happily, holding her silken hands.
"Who can deny it to us?" she said again.
"No one we're alone," he said in a euphoria.
"Yes, we're alone; none can lay a hand upon us," she spoke joyously.
"No one," said he breaking into a smile.
"The people envy us," she spoke bitterly.
"They're bastards" he returned.
"They hate us," she said with her eyes upon him.
"They do, but why?" he asked her.
"They don't understand us. That's why."
"That's true, they don't," he said in dejection.
"They don't understand dreams," she burst out with despair.
"Particularly our dreams" he went on.
"So they hate us," she went on.
"They speak of us"
"They bite us"
"They envy us."
"They hate us."
"Yes. They do that."
"And do you love me?" she asked him eagerly.
"Oh! God, yes," he said confidently, a smile breaking across his face.
"Then we'll fly away" she rejoiced.
"Away?”
"Away to a never-never land.."
"Ahh."
"Oh?" A pause.
"Ahh. I'm swinging on the chains, I'm flying with you. Ah" said the lady romantically.
"Yea, we're in the swing, singing and lovemaking," Vinod burst out joyously.
"But the path of lovemaking is hard for us, isn't' it, my dear?" said the girl, with something heavy in her heart.
"We can't help it" said he.
"Y'yeah."
Vinod did not know how he had fallen in love with her when he started his MBA at IIM-Ahmedabad. Nor did she remember it. First they were strangers. Then a chance made them become familiar to each other. As time went on ,their like-mindedness made them go hand-in-hand. Natural familiarity led to intimacy, intimacy to friendship, friendship to love and love to cherish the dream of marrying and living together. What else? Geetabehn's father did not try to control her doings.
(Another situation)
When Dasara festival came, it was the end of September. In the month of October was the time of Dasara holidays. It was IIM-Ahmedabad's mid term vacation for rest.
One weekend during this month Shilpa Kanha telephoned her son.
"Hello," said Vinod, switching on his Spice mobile.
"Vinod, your mother speaking. How're you, my boy?" spoke his mother from the other end of the land.
"Fine," said her son heartily.
There was a pause.
"How about your lady?" Shilpa asked him eagerly.
"Fine, amma," said her son happily. "How's dad?"
"He's okay" said his mother. "Your sister's finished her MBBS."
"Good." returned Vinod.
"She's a proposal from the States"
"From the States? Fine," said Vinod, happy to hear the news.
"The suitor's a doctor in Chicago."
"Oh! That's excellent. What else?" he asked, surprised of her even tone.
"He liked her."
"That’s good"
"But," stopped his mother abruptly as if choked in her throat.
"Oh! What's the problem?" asked her son.
"Vinod, Gauri doesn't want to marry him."
"Why? Does she love some one else?"
"That's correct," said the woman sadly.
"May I know who it is?"
"She loves her professor. That man is your friend's brother, Dr K M Debendra, a Bengaliwallah."
"Anyway, it's okay," Vinod replied hopefully.
There was some reflective silence.
"I think Debendra works with the Indian Institute of Science?" asked Vinod resuming the dialogue.
"No, now he works with Dharmasthala Manjunath Educational Society and he's settled down in Bangalore."
"That’s good."
There was some pause.
"What else?" asked the boy impatiently.
"She says she must marry this year."
"OK, we'll marry her this year," he replied, smiling.
There was some silence.
"How about you?" the mother took the advantage of silence.
"Ah! I'm okay."
"I know you're okay. But how about your marriage?" her tone was serious.
"We'll do it, amma."
"When?" she said anxiously.
"We'll decide, when." said her son, a bit gravely.
"Will you come home together this time?" spoke Shilpa Kanha with her motherly concern. She was as eager to see him as a hen is eager to see her chicks, and to see her future daughter-in-law.
"Yes, we'll come together."
"What, the Pandeys won't object to it?"
"No. They won't. They've consented to it."
"Well. Dasara begins in the first week of October," said his mother wearily. " Vinod, this year it'll be celebrated grandly."
"I see," he said.
"Bye."
"Bye ..."